I Will Buy You A New Life
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: Huddy. SEQUEL to Where Your Flowers Can Bloom. We catch up with House, Cuddy, and their daughter, Sarah, seven years later. Sarah is a teenager, House has an emerging medical problem, and Cuddy's trying to keep her eye on both of them.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D. nor the characters. I don't make any money from this.**  
Author's Note:** Here we are. Finally. The third part. I'm surprised how far this has gone. It's been fun and thank you, everyone, for all the interest. I hope you enjoy this sequel sequel because I've been having such a great time writing it.

* * *

"Greg?" Cuddy closed the front door behind her.

"In here," his deep voice called out from the living room.

Cuddy headed down the hallway. She turned into the living room and looked to the couch where House sat, eyes on the television across the room. He glanced at Cuddy and then turned off the television.

"Hey," Cuddy greeted.

"You're talking to me now?" House asked and set the remote control on the coffee table.

Cuddy gave a pathetic shrug. "Couldn't stay mad at you forever."

House gave her a knowing look. "You heard I went to see Dr. Lyons."

She moved further into the room and nodded. "Yes."

"So, you've forgiven me?" he asked.

"For stealing your patient from the hospital and nearly shoving him off a bridge?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "No. That was unprofessional and stupid of you. What did Dr. Lyons say?"

"Oh, I see." House looked back at the television, wishing he had left it on, but he didn't have the energy to reach for the remote and actually do so. "You just want the information so after I give in, you'll stop talking to me again."

"That depends on what you have to say," Cuddy told him.

"Cuddy." He brought his eyes back to her. "Stop this."

She stood for a moment, staring at him, and then softened. "The lawsuit is huge. Not only for taking him out of the hospital, but for emotional distress-"

"I saved his life," House cut her off, sighing.

"That's arguable." Cuddy placed her hands on her hips.

"I cured him _because_ I exposed him to that fear," House emphasized. "It got his heart going, adrenaline-"

"Okay." Cuddy gave a wave of her hand and sat down next to him. "We're not debating this here. Work stays at work."

"Then, you should talk to me at home," House said.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "I do-"

"Yeah, you do," House quickly agreed. "Coldly. Be Lisa here, not Cuddy."

She took that in. "I'm sorry. Sometimes, I get so... I just... sometimes it's hard."

"You can't control me everywhere," he reminded her, completely serious.

"I know." She paused. "What did Dr. Lyons say?"

House directed his gaze elsewhere. The sound of the front door opening kept him from looking back at Cuddy and answering her question. Cuddy turned toward the doorway.

"Come in here, please," she called out.

Sarah, backpack on and guitar case strap hung over her, stood in the doorway. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Did you tell Mrs. Harding thank you for me?" Cuddy asked her and Sarah nodded. Cuddy went on, "Thank you. And Bubba called. Please call her back tomorrow."

"'Kay," Sarah replied. She stepped into the room and looked to House. "Speaking of grandmother's, Dad, when are we going to visit Grandma again?"

"I don't know, Mick," House said.

"I have a final project for my English class," Sarah told him. "To interview someone. I'd like to do an interview with Grandma. Sometimes she thinks she's in 1968."

Cuddy frowned. "Sarah, I don't think it's very appropriate to-"

"No, Mom, the assignment is really cool," Sarah interrupted excitedly. "We're suppose to interview someone, or a couple people, and then write a paper discussing some sort of topic or issue that includes the interview. I thought it would be great to do it on Alzheimer's. And Grandma would let me, wouldn't she, Dad?" Sarah directed her eyes back to her father. "What you've said about her... before she was sick... that she would."

"Yes." House nodded. "She would. Your grandma always cared about others. Put their interests before her own. She would have done anything for you."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, almost sadly.

"When is the project due?" Cuddy asked.

"End of the semester." Sarah shrugged. "So, like, a month."

"Sounds doable to me," House replied.

Cuddy looked to him, eyeing him up. "Are you sure?"

House's eyebrows drew together. "Why not?"

Cuddy gave him a look. "Greg..."

"What?" Sarah asked, knowing she was being excluded and not liking it.

Cuddy turned back to her daughter. "It's a long drive."

"We can take a weekend trip," Sarah suggested.

"We really should move your mother closer to us," Cuddy said to House.

House shook his head just enough that Cuddy caught it, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it now, especially in front of his daughter.

"So, can we go?" Sarah raised hopeful eyebrows. "Soon?"

Cuddy shook her head. "I don't think-"

"Of course we can go," House cut her off. "We'll just have to pick a good day or weekend to go."

Sarah shrugged. "Okay."

"How was band practice?" Cuddy asked.

"Fine," Sarah answered and headed for the door.

"We're going to eat dinner soon," Cuddy told her.

"'Kay," Sarah called over her shoulder and went to her bedroom.

Cuddy turned to House, going back to their previous conversation. "So, what'd he say?"

"Later." House picked up his cane and stood from the couch.

"Greg, please," Cuddy asked of him.

"Lisa."

House leaned down toward her and pressed his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of him, a mixture of cologne and Irish Spring soap. He pulled away from her as quickly as he had come close and left the room.

Cuddy drew in a breath and opened her eyes. She caught sight of his backside in the doorway and stood to her feet. The news wasn't good and she knew it. But, she would let it wait until later, until he wanted to talk. She pursed her lips together and made her way to the kitchen.

* * *

"Easy, Mick." House stared across the table at his teenage daughter. "We're not going to yank your plate away."

"Greg." Cuddy gave him a look.

"Sorry." Sarah swallowed hard. "I have a lot of homework and I want to practice."

"What song are you working on?" House asked, interested.

"Oh, a bunch." Sarah took a long drink from her glass of water. "I volunteered to play in the Pediatrics wing. Gotta play kid stuff."

"Nah." House shook his head. "Play some hardcore rock."

"Yeah, Mom would like that," Sarah smiled and glanced at her mother.

"I'd love anything you'd play," Cuddy told her.

"Oh, Jeez, Mom." Sarah rolled her eyes and dug her fork into her carrots.

"However, I don't think hard rock is suitable for children," Cuddy added in.

"Why not?" House asked, setting his fork down next to his half eaten plate. "Play something from that heavy metal group out these days. What is it called? Roger something."

"Roger Roger," Sarah corrected and shoveled more food into her mouth.

"Right," House agreed.

"No." Cuddy shook her head. "I don't even want any of that in this house."

Sarah swallowed. "Don't worry. I have better taste than Roger Roger."

"Like the Whoever Boys?" House raised his eyebrows at his daughter. "Although, they're not really boys."

"No." Sarah smirked. "Not really."

House frowned. "No sex."

"Dad!" Sarah exclaimed.

"I don't want any Whoever babies running around," House said.

Sarah made a face. "Like I would ever get to meet the Whoever Boys."

"You never know," House replied. "And if you do, no sex."

"_Dad,_ _seriously_!" Sarah looked to her mother. "Mom, tell him to stop."

"Greg," Cuddy gave him a warning.

"What?" House frowned at Cuddy. "You want her to pop out kids?"

"I have trust in our daughter and her decisions," Cuddy told him.

"So do I," House agreed. "It's her raging hormones I don't trust."

"Oh, please." Sarah rolled her eyes as she stood from the table, taking her plate with her.

"Those hormones can mess you up," House called after her. "Get you pregnant."

Sarah smiled as she set her plate in the sink. She walked back into the living room and wrapped her arms around House.

"Don't worry, Dad." She gave him a tight squeeze. "I won't have sex until I'm married."

With that, Sarah pulled away from her father and left the room. House watched her go, eyebrows drawn and frowning.

"Yeah right!" he said before hearing her bedroom door close. House looked to Cuddy. "She's your daughter. Better get her on a tighter leash."

"Tighter leash." Cuddy rolled her eyes and picked up her glass. "Right."

"When did you lose your virginity?" House asked and Cuddy nearly choked on her water.

"What?" Cuddy got out before succumbing to a coughing fit.

"You heard me," House told her. "I'm curious. Maybe's it's hereditary. And since you flaunted everything you had-"

"Shut up," Cuddy cut him off, a frown on her face. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was..." Cuddy stopped. She wasn't sure why confiding this felt so unusual and made her uneasy.

"Come on." House smirked. "How old were you?"

Cuddy took in a breath. "Seventeen."

"Wow." House's eyes widened in exaggerated surprise.

"In my defense, I didn't have sex again for a long time after that," Cuddy attempted to defend herself.

"Like, what?" House raised an eyebrow. "Three days?"

Cuddy made eye contact. "Try three years."

House held her gaze for a moment and then lowered his eyes. He brightened slightly and looked back up at her. "Let's just hope it's not hereditary then."

Cuddy shot him a harsh look. "When I was seventeen, I was..."

"In love?" House asked cynically.

"No," Cuddy shook her head slightly. "Curious. I wasn't a wild child. I just... liked to know things, I guess. Like you, in a way. I want answers. I like answers."

"And did you get any?" House asked.

"No." Cuddy paused a moment. "When did you lose yours?"

House shook his head as he stood from the table. "Oh, I don't kiss and tell. It's unladylike."

Cuddy glared and House carried his unfinished plate to the kitchen with one hand, his cane in the other. Cuddy watched him, angry with him, but that faded as she realized he was wincing as he walked, his shoulders tight. She realized he was in pain. A pain he wasn't sharing with her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback! I'm glad you're as excited as I am about this sequel. Thank you for reading and sticking by this fic!!**

* * *

House was sitting in bed, dressed in his boxers and tee shirt, and flipping through a medical magazine Wilson had given him. Cuddy entered the bedroom and gave a glance at him before heading to her dresser and extracting her pajamas.

"What'd he say?" Cuddy asked, keeping her back to House.

"You were right." House flipped a page, not looking up.

"I didn't want to be." Cuddy pulled her shirt off and replaced it with a worn Michigan U tee shirt.

"Yeah," House said and flipped another page.

She faced him as she slid off her skirt. "What are they going to do?"

"Talk me into getting off Vicodin." House still didn't look at her.

"Well, yeah," Cuddy replied, as if it were obvious, and slid on faded green pajama bottoms.

"You know it's a problem because I have _pain_." House flipped the magazine closed and threw it to the night stand.

"Which has gotten worse." Cuddy placed her hands on her hips and watched the magazine slide off the night stand and fall to the floor. She brought her eyes back to House. "Have they talked to you about switching to something else?"

"If I get a new liver." House finally looked to her. "Which I won't."

Cuddy approached the bed. "You really don't thi-"

"Do you?" House cut her off, raising his eyebrows. "Come on, Lisa. The guy on drugs needs a new liver to still take his drugs. That'll go over real well."

"But, you have pain," Cuddy stated, standing at the end of the bed now. "They can't exclude you from the donor list because of that. Especially since the infarction was overlooked at the hospital to begin with. We did this to you so we should help make it right."

"Shoulds don't stand for much," House told her.

"I'll make sure you're on the list," Cuddy replied. "Did Dr. Lyons say how bad it is? How long you have...?"

House gave a shrug, wanting to distance himself from it. "Anywhere from six months to a year or so, barring anything major happens."

"Right." Cuddy turned away from him, tears coming to her eyes.

"It'll be all right," House said, noting the way she tensed as she walked away from the bed.

Cuddy didn't face him. "I don't see how."

House kept his eyes on her. "I've cheated death so many-"

"And it's finally catching up with you, Greg." Cuddy spoke quietly, causing House to stop talking just to hear her. Cuddy turned. "If you get a liver, what did Dr. Lyons say? How many years do you get continuing on with your drugs?"

"He said if I get a liver, he'll switch me to other, less damaging drugs to manage the pain," House paraphrased the long discussion he had with Dr. Lyons. "It'll give me another ten to twenty years maybe. I don't know how well other drugs'll work. And then he gave me some bullshit about doing _other_ things to help my pain. Candles and floral scents or something."

"We should look for alternatives," Cuddy insisted. "If you're lucky enough to get a transplant, we should help keep you alive long enough to appreciate it. It can't hurt to _try_ other things, Greg."

"Yeah," he only agreed to ease her. "Maybe."

The sounds of a guitar started, partially quieted by the walls of the home. The tune was familiar, something House easily identified. Cuddy looked toward the doorway as Sarah began to sing along with her guitar.

"Christopher Robin and I walked-" She stopped, strummed a little. "Walk-" She paused, then played the chords correctly. "Walked along under branches lit up by the moon. Posing our questions to Owl and Eeyore as our days disappeared all too soon."

"We should tell her it's after ten," House spoke up from the bed.

"No..." Cuddy looked to him. "I like hearing her sing."

House shrugged. "It's your rule."

"I know," Cuddy replied and moved to the doorway of the bedroom.

Sarah's playing continued. "But, I've wandered much further today than I should and I can't seem to find my way back to the wood. So help me if you can, I've gotta get back to the house of Pooh Corner by one."

"She's great at singing along with the guitar," House said.

Cuddy turned her head in his direction. "She didn't get that from me."

"Me neither." House smirked. "Must not be my kid."

"Nope," Cuddy told him before a smirk crossed her face as well.

"You'd be surprised, there's so much to be done," Sarah went on. "Count all the bees in the hive. Chase all the clouds from the sky. Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh."

Cuddy smiled at House and then headed down the hallway. Sarah's bedroom door was partially open. Cuddy pressed her fingertips against, pushing it open further.

"Winnie the Pooh doesn't know what to do. Got a honey jar stuck on his nose. He came to me asking help and-" Sarah saw her mother and immediately stopped playing. "Oh. Hi, Mom." She swiveled on her stool and looked to her clock on her night stand. She turned back to her mother and gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"It was good," Cuddy told her. "The kids'll love it."

"Hope so." Sarah pulled the guitar strap over her head.

"Well, I liked it," Cuddy said as she entered further into the room.

"Thanks." Sarah gave her mom a smile and placed her acoustic guitar on its stand next to her electric one.

"Goodnight, hun." Cuddy placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "Don't stay up too late, all right?"

"I won't." Sarah shook her head. "I just have to shower."

"Okay." Cuddy gave Sarah a nod and brushed some dark hair out of Sarah's eyes. "Night."

"Night, Mom."

Cuddy left Sarah to get ready for bed and went back into her own bedroom. She entered the room and made her way over to the bed.

"You made her stop?" House asked, acting shocked and outraged.

"Shut up." Cuddy sat down on the bed next to him and pulled the blankets over herself. She eyed House up for a moment. "So... what do we do?"

"About?" House raised an eyebrow.

"Telling her," Cuddy said.

"Don't," House told her simply.

Cuddy frowned. "Greg."

"We'll give it some time, okay?" House situated his legs under the covers. "Now's just... not the right time."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "It's never the right time."

"What?" House brought his full attention to her.

"To talk about anything." Cuddy reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "You've been so... distant. Closed up in yourself. I wish you would talk to me again."

House stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

Cuddy softened. "Ever since your father died-"

"Stop," House quickly cut her off, shaking his head.

"See?" Cuddy asked. "This is what I mean. Why can't we talk about it?"

"Because I don't want to talk about him in this house," he answered her.

"Why?" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "He's dead."

"And he doesn't need to be remembered," House replied.

"You're being awfully bitter," Cuddy accused as gently as she could.

"Wouldn't you?" House's eyes flashed a darkness. "I'm sorry if I didn't grow up in the luxurious life of Lisa Cuddy."

"Don't even start with that," Cuddy told him. "You know I didn't-"

"Right," House interrupted. "You fought with your mother through the troubled teen years. It must have been terrible for you to eventually come back on good terms with her."

Cuddy let out a sigh. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Of course not," House snapped back.

Cuddy turned away from him and switched off her light. She wasn't planning on sleeping, but she wanted him to think she was unavailable. She was through with talking with him. "And you'll have to tell her soon because you're starting to develop a yellow pigmentation."

House stared at her backside a moment and then settled down on his back. He left his light on, knowing it bothered her. After a few minutes, he sat back up and turned it off. He rested down on his back again.

"Fifteen," House said.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"I was fifteen," House replied. "Older woman. I was being a man. At the time, I thought it would somehow help my relationship with my father." House let that sit a minute, the truth hurting. "Besides, masturbation can only do so much."

Cuddy saw through his added remark. She turned over and moved closer to him, feeling closer to him after being reiterated with the fact that she and House were more alike than she had ever originally believed.

"Do you think she'll wait?" Cuddy asked him.

"Don't know." House gave a small shrug. "Although, if any part of hereditary has anything to do with it, she's probably had sex by now."

Cuddy gave him a nudge. "That's not funny."

House drew in a breath and placed his arm around Cuddy. "You raised her well."

Cuddy snuggled up against him. "I think my mother raised me well, but I still had sex at seventeen."

"Maybe we're worrying too much." House ran his hand down Cuddy's back, his fingers stroking over her lightly. "Mick is responsible. At least, responsible enough as a teenager can be."

"Yes," Cuddy agreed. "And she's responsible enough to handle your cirrhosis."

House didn't answer, but continued to trace circles on Cuddy's back with his fingertips. Cuddy closed her eyes, breathing him in.

"You should have really went to the doctor's sooner," Cuddy said. "I noticed the vomiting, I noticed your weight loss, the jaundice, the-"

"I know you noticed," House cut in softly. "But we both didn't want to admit what we knew was true."

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed quietly.

House shut his eyes, having been tired for the last few hours and feeling it really starting to take a toll on him. Cuddy realized that she was beginning to become drowsy now that she was warm against House. She listened as his breathing regulated and suddenly had the urge to burst into tears. She drew in a quick breath and held onto him tighter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, guys! New chapter! Thanks for all the reviews! I love 'em.**

* * *

"Dad."

Sarah stood in the doorway to the kitchen. House turned from the sink and lowered the glass of water he was drinking from. He slipped his bottle of Vicodin back into his pocket.

"Yeah?" House asked as he watched Sarah step into the kitchen.

"How many of those did you take?" Sarah asked nonchalantly and opened the cabinet.

"Recommended dosage," House answered with a shrug.

Sarah eyed House suspiciously as she pulled a bag of pretzels from the cabinet. She uncurled the end of the half eaten bag and took out a pretzel, her eyes still on her father. House eyed her up as well and set his glass down.

House gave a nod to her. "What?"

"Nothing." Sarah chewed the pretzel and reached for another one. "Did Mom say she'd be home on time tonight?"

"She said she'd try." House dropped his suspicions over his daughter's suspicions as he leaned back against the sink. "You're not going to be hungry for dinner if you're eating now."

"No, I will be." Sarah nodded and continued munching. "What are we having?"

"Don't know," House replied. "That's your mother's job."

"If she ever heard you say that..." Sarah shook her head at her father.

"But, she's not here." House smirked and gave her a wink.

"I'm going to tell her you said that," Sarah threatened and closed the end of the pretzel bag.

"And I'll tell her it's not true," House said.

"She would never take your word over mine," Sarah told him.

"Wanna bet?" House raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, come on, Dad." Sarah placed the pretzel bag back in the cabinet. "I'm her _daughter_."

"I've known her longer," House replied simply.

"Maybe." Sarah faced him. "But, that also means you've had more time to lie to her, causing her to trust you less."

House cocked his head to the side. "Are you implying that you lie to your mother?"

"No." Sarah couldn't stop her smile.

"Oh, well, I'm telling her that." House gave a point with his finger. "I'm sure she'll enjoy hearing about how often you lie to her."

"Okay, okay." Sarah raised a surrendering hand. "I won't tell her about your good housewife comment if you won't make her paranoid with the lie story."

"Deal." House gave a nod. "We work well together, Mick."

"Yeah." Sarah nodded as well. "How 'bout that?"

House gave his daughter a smile. Sarah returned the smile and made her way over to the refrigerator.

"How was school today?" House asked her.

"Good." Sarah pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. "Got an A on my math test."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," House told her.

"You should be careful about that, Dad," Sarah warned. "Too much pressure on a kid could do bad things."

House was intrigued. "Like what?"

"Stress me out." Sarah shrugged as she twisted off the cap to her water. "Make me snap."

House watched his daughter, a seriousness coming through his tone. "Do you really feel pressured to get good grades?"

"Well... yeah," Sarah answered.

"You gonna snap?" House asked.

"No." Sarah rolled her eyes. "I just wish you and Mom would back off a bit. Or act like you cared less."

"We want you to get into a good college," House said.

"But, college is a few years off, Dad," Sarah replied. "And who knows? Maybe I won't even go."

"You need to go if you want to get a job," House pointed out.

"I don't _have_ to have a college degree." Sarah set her water bottle on the counter.

House shrugged. "Well, if you can live on minimum wage, then that's fine with me."

"Dad, this is what I mean." Sarah shook her head. "I _don't_ need to go to college and I _can_ make money without a college education."

"I never said you couldn't make money," House argued. "Employees are reluctant when you don't have a college degree. If this was sixty years ago, you'd have more luck, but nowadays-"

Sarah sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"Don't get upset," House replied. "I'm just reminding you about the reality of life out there, Mick."

"Right." Sarah had traces of sarcasm in her voice that only a trained ear could pick up. "You're always honest with me."

"Yeah." House paused, now on the same level as his daughter. "I am."

"_How long have you been sitting there?"_

_House stood in the doorway of his office, staring at the twelve year old girl sitting against the wall across from him. She rose to her feet._

"_A while."_

"_Why didn't you come in?" House eyed her carefully._

_His daughter shrugged in return. "You were busy."_

"_How did you know I was busy?" House stepped out of his office and held the door open for her._

"_You were writing." Sarah shrugged and entered House's office._

"_Something wrong?" House followed his daughter back into his office._

_Sarah crossed the room and picked up the grey and red tennis ball. She gave a shrug. "No."_

"_Come on." House followed her across the room. "Now, what did your mom do?"_

"_Nothing." Sarah slammed the ball back down on the desk._

"_Mick?" House locked eyes with her._

"_She didn't do anything!" Sarah exclaimed and made her way over to the chair in the corner of the room._

"_Okay." House turned in the direction of the chair. "What is she doing now?"_

"_She's on the phone," Sarah told him and sat down in the chair._

"_So, what happened at school?" House asked. Sarah gave him an incredulous look. House smirked slightly and shrugged. "I know everything."_

"_Dad." Sarah frowned, deciding the best way to broach the subject. "Cigarettes are bad, right?"_

"_Yes," House answered._

"_Then, why do people smoke them?" Sarah asked._

"_Why don't you tell me?" House leaned against his desk._

"_How should I know?" Sarah raised her voice._

_House raised his eyebrows in return. "You ever smoke one?"_

"_No!" Sarah was indignant, but she quickly cooled down. Just like her mother. She folded her arms across her chest and eyed her father up. "Have you?"_

_House paused a moment and then gave a short nod. "Yes. A very long time ago."_

"_Why did you smoke them?" Sarah uncrossed her arms. "Did Mom ever smoke?"_

"_Your mother would never do anything that stupid," House told her. "And I smoked because it took the edge off."_

"_What edge?" Sarah scooted toward the edge of the chair._

_House shrugged. "Stress, anger. Cigarettes make you feel better."_

_Sarah waited. "But?"_

"_Smart girls know there's always a but." House moved around his desk and sat in his chair. "But, cigarettes have nicotine in them. That's what makes you feel better. The drug. It's addictive. And eventually, it can make you sick, give you cancer."_

"_Then, why do people smoke them?" Sarah stood up quickly and moved toward the doorway before facing her father. "Does it really make you feel that good? Why did you smoke them knowing they were bad?"_

"_Because I chose a bad way to deal with my problems," House said. "I made a mistake." He stood up. "Did you make a mistake?"_

"_No," Sarah answered._

_House moved back around his desk. "Are you sure?"_

"_Yes," Sarah replied crisply._

"_Come here."_

_Sarah didn't budge, but folded her arms across her chest. House let out a sigh._

"_All right." He moved towards her and stopped in front of her before bending down and taking an exaggerated sniff._

_Sarah pushed him back. "What are you doing?"_

_House straightened. "Just checking."_

"_I didn't smoke any cigarettes, Dad, I was just asking," Sarah told him harshly. "Besides, you smoked."_

_House gave a nod. "I did and it was a mistake. Drugs and alcohol mess up your body. They're not something you want to mess with."_

"_I'm not messing with them, I was just asking!" Sarah exclaimed._

"_Why are you getting upset?" House asked._

"_Because you're accusing me of smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol," Sarah replied, frowning. "I would never do that!"_

"_Why?" House watched her._

_Sarah made a face. "Because I don't want to."_

"_Why?" House pressed on._

"_I don't want to use stuff like that to make me feel better when it can kill you," Sarah said. "It's such a stupid thing to do."_

"_What about my pain pills?" House wanted to throw her for a loop, get an opinion, engage her in thought._

_Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "You use them for pain, not because you're stressed or angry."_

"_So, there's a difference," House concluded._

"_Yes, but," Sarah paused, "does that mean the pills you use can make you sick?"_

"_Yes," House answered._

"_How sick?" Sarah asked quickly._

"_You don't need the details, Mick, because I'm not going to get sick," House turned from her and made his way back to his desk._

"_How do you know?" Sarah remained close to the door._

"_Because I know." House faced her. "I'm honest with you. There's no need to worry."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! I love 'em. Here's the next chapter!**

* * *

Sarah unlocked the front door, surprised that it was locked considering she knew her father was home from work today. She entered the house and set her backpack down by the door.

"Dad?" Sarah called out and closed the front door behind her.

She made her way down the hall and peeked into the living room. Empty. Sarah listened for a moment, trying to determine if she could hear him.

"Dad?" Sarah tried again, continuing down the hallway.

Sarah passed the bathroom and stopped suddenly as she saw House lying on his back on the floor. Sarah hurried in, concern clearly evident on her face.

"Dad!" Sarah knelt down at his side. "Are you okay?"

House opened his eyes and looked to his daughter. He forced himself to sit up.

"I'm fine," he told her.

Sarah stood. "I'm calling Mom."

"No." House quickly shook his head.

"You're in pain," Sarah said. "Where are your pills?" She waited for House to answer, but he was staring at the tiled floor. Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "Dad."

House raised his eyes to her. "In the bedroom."

Sarah hurried from the bathroom and into her parents' bedroom. She scanned the room quickly before her eyes landed on the orange pill bottle on the night stand at the other side of the bed. She quickly climbed across the bed and snagged the bottle before heading back out of the room.

Peeking into the bathroom first, Sarah entered and extended the pill bottle to her father. The pills gave a rattle as House took the bottle from her.

"Thanks, Mick." He popped off the lid.

"What happened?" Sarah asked. "Do you want me to get you a glass of water?"

"No, I'm fine." House swallowed two pills dry.

"What happened?" Sarah repeated the question, her hands on her hips.

"I fell and was having trouble getting back up," House answered, pressing the white cap back on the bottle.

"You fell?" Sarah repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

"Tripped." House reached for the counter around the sink as he prepared to stand.

"Want me to help you?" Sarah took a step closer to him, frowning at the yellow tint to his skin that seemed to grow more noticeable every day.

"No," House quickly told her and forced himself onto two unsteady feet.

"Dad, aren't those drugs bad for you?" Sarah watched him carefully.

"No." House swiped his cane from the floor.

"But, you had to start taking two to continue to manage your pain," Sarah pointed out. "Are you addicted?"

House shook his head, almost wanting to laugh. "No."

Sarah was doubtful. "I should talk to Mom-"

"Mick, I'm not an addict." House cut her off. "I know what it means to be an addict."

"Then, it's true," Sarah said.

"What?" House leaned heavily on his cane as he made his way into the hallway.

"Uncle James said something a few weeks ago." Sarah followed him out. "You used to be addicted to Vicodin. And you're still taking it now."

House stopped in the hall and faced his daughter. "It's... not the same now."

Sarah gave a shrug. "You've been taking it as long as I can remember."

"But, I wasn't an addict then and I'm not now," House told her. "You think your mom would let me in this house if I was an addict?"

"No." Sarah shook her head slightly, her dark hair bouncing.

"Exactly," House replied.

"But, then how do you take the drugs without being an addict?" Sarah asked. "And why do you take two now? You used to only need one."

"Self control and my body built a tolerance," House answered both questions in one go. "My doctor, your mom, increased my intake."

"But, the drugs are bad for you," Sarah replied and worry crept into her voice. "Couldn't you stop taking them?"

House sighed quietly. "I have chronic pain because of my thigh. I need something to manage it."

"So, I should manage pain with drugs too then?" Sarah shot back.

House felt his jaw tighten. "I'm not trying to set a bad example for you. I cleaned up because of you."

"I think being clean means you stop taking drugs." Sarah folded her arms across her chest.

"If you knew how much I was taking before, you'd be singing my praises for being clean," House said.

"Is it really worth it if it's killing you?" Sarah asked, annoyance in her voice.

"What do you mean?" House eyed her carefully.

Sarah rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Nothing."

"Hey." House gave a tug on her shirt, stopping her. "How was school?"

Sarah gave him a shrug. "Okay."

"Just okay?" House asked.

"Yeah," Sarah bitterly replied and headed for her bedroom.

"Mick," House said.

Sarah stopped in front of her bedroom and brought her gaze in his direction. "What?"

"You don't know everything, so stop pretending you do," he told her.

Sarah stood for a moment before she glared at her father and entered her bedroom, slamming the door closed as hard as she could.

* * *

"Mom?" Sarah paused in the doorway to the dining room.

"Yeah?" Cuddy looked up from the paperwork scattered around her.

"Are you busy?" Sarah drew back slightly.

"No, hun." Cuddy shook her head. Her eyebrows drew together, sensing the uncertainty in her daughter. "What's wrong?"

Sarah hesitated and then stepped into the room. "It's Dad."

"Did something happen?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows. House hadn't mentioned anything to her when she got home. Then again, she knew there were times when he chose not to clue her in.

Sarah took a seat next to her mother. "He was on the bathroom floor when I came home. He said he tripped, but he was on his back." Sarah's eyes flashed a mixture of something fierce yet sad. "Is there something going on that you're keeping from me? Is Dad dying?"

Cuddy forced a smile on her face in an attempt to comfort Sarah. "No, he's not dying."

"Mom, his skin is _yellow_." Sarah stared at her mother.

Cuddy's lips pursed together. She paused and then drew in a breath. "His liver isn't doing well. He's on a transplant list."

"How sick is he?" Sarah asked.

"Pretty sick," Cuddy answered her softly.

"What caused it?" Sarah had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"The Vicodin," Cuddy told her.

Sarah frowned. "I knew it."

"Long term use causes damage," Cuddy went on. "The thing about the liver is that it's an interesting organ because it can regenerate itself. But, when it gets scars on it because of substances like drugs and alcohol, it gets harder and harder to make itself better. Your father's liver has a lot of scars on it."

"But, the Vicodin was given to him by doctors," Sarah said harshly. "By you. Why would you prescribe Dad something that does that to his liver?"

"Because of his pain." Cuddy tried to make her daughter understand. "He needed something to help with it."

"So he gets drugs that kill him?" Sarah raised her eyebrows, her anger growing. "They should have done something else. You should have given him something that would _help_ him."

"It's not that easy." Cuddy shook her head. "Your father is in a lot of pain that he deals with every day. He's taking the minimal dosage for his pain and has to put up with the side effects."

"So, that's it?" Sarah spat. "What happens if he doesn't get a liver? We just let him die?"

Cuddy softened. "Sarah-"

"I want to give him my liver," Sarah cut her off.

Cuddy drew back, eyebrows drawn. "What?"

"I looked up yellow skin a few weeks ago when I noticed Dad was looking weird," Sarah told her mother. "He has jaundice. It's associated with liver damage. I want to be a living donor and give him part of my liver."

Cuddy held up a hand. "No, Sarah, you're too young."

"No, I'm not!" Sarah denied. "Mom, please! You didn't see him in there on the bathroom floor. I thought he was hurt or worse! And I'm not going to let him die just because I'm not a legal adult yet. I _want_ to do this. Please. You're the Dean so you can get a surgeon who'll let me do it. Please, Mom."

"No, Sarah," Cuddy replied, shaking her head.

"Why?" Sarah asked her angrily.

"There are risks to any surgery," Cuddy said. "You could die. Donating doesn't leave you in the clear. Your body doesn't care about good intentions."

"But, I'm young and healthy and my liver will grow back quickly," Sarah replied. "I know what I risk, Mom. I know that if I do this, I have a slim chance I could die, but if I don't do this, he has a great chance that he _will_ die. I like my Dad living."

Cuddy leaned back in her chair. "You're not old enough to make this decision."

"That's so unfair!" Sarah exclaimed. "This is my body and I can do what I want with it."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "Sarah-"

"I've never tried cigarettes, I've never had alcohol, I've never done anything with drugs, and I haven't had sex," Sarah pleaded her case. "I get straight A's in school, I'm in the band, and I call Grammy Blythe every week. You're the one who raised me this way and I'm asking you to let me do this. Please. I've only had him seven years. Don't make me give him up."

Cuddy paused, not sure what to make of this. She knew she had to talk to House about it. Her eyes met her daughter's blue ones. "Let me think about it."

Sarah frowned. "Mom-"

"That's not a no," Cuddy cut in. "Just... let me think about it, Sarah."

Sarah let out a sigh, quite deflated. "Okay."

She stood from her chair and headed for the hallway.

"Hey, come here," Cuddy told her. "Give me a hug before bed."

Sarah shuffled back over to her mother and leaned down towards her. Cuddy wrapped her arms around her child as Sarah rested her chin on her mother's shoulder.

"I love you," Cuddy said.

"I love you, too, Mom," Sarah replied and gave her mother a parting squeeze before heading for her bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you, guys, for your wonderful comments. I appreciate them so much.**

* * *

Cuddy entered the bedroom quietly. House went to bed earlier than usual and she noticed, but didn't say anything. After her conversation with Sarah, she now knew why. Cuddy changed quickly into her pajamas, leaving the light off, and then slipped into bed next to House.

"Hey," House greeted roughly once she was settled.

"Hi," Cuddy whispered.

"You all right?" House asked her.

"Are you?" Cuddy replied.

House turned slightly onto his left leg, facing Cuddy. "Mick told you about the bathroom thing."

"The bathroom thing?" Cuddy repeated, turning towards him. "She thought you were dead."

"I was throwing up," House told her. "I couldn't get back up after."

"I told her," Cuddy confessed. "She wants to give you part of her liver."

"No," House immediately responded.

"She's insistent," Cuddy raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not letting her give her liver to me," House said. "Besides, she's too young."

"She doesn't think so," Cuddy gave a slight shrug.

"Well, she is." House flopped onto his back.

Cuddy let out a quiet sigh. "Greg..."

"What?" House forced himself to sit up. "You want her to go under the knife for me? I'm not letting anything happen to her. She doesn't have permission to do it."

Cuddy sat up as well. "She doesn't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose her," House said. "She's not being a living donor."

"She's going to be upset," Cuddy told him.

"Fine." House shrugged. "Let her get the tests. We'll tell her she's not a good match."

Cuddy frowned. "I'm not going to lie to her."

"Well, I'm not taking her liver," House replied.

"You are both so stubborn." Cuddy's irritation was clear in her tone.

"Right." House rolled his eyes. "Because you're not."

"Your chances of getting a liver aren't great," Cuddy reminded him. "You need drugs to manage your pain so the liver will just get damaged again. Though, switching you to another drug after a transplant might help to minimize the damage."

"Yeah, I can get addicted to that instead," House bitterly shot back.

"Greg, don't," Cuddy shook her head tiredly, this issue always arising when they spoke about a liver transplant.

"What?" House asked her. "It's habit forming."

"But, I'll be watching you," Cuddy told him sternly. "And you have Sarah to think of. And there are a variety of drugs that you can try that aren't habit forming."

House paused a moment and then spoke quietly. "I know."

Cuddy softened her tone to match his. "She wants to give you part of her liver. She's not going to stop nagging about it until we say yes."

"Too bad," House replied.

"I," Cuddy hesitated. "I don't particularly want her to do it. I don't even know if we'll find a doctor who will let a fifteen year old be a living donor, but... she's smart. And she is very healthy. Teens are just as resilient as children."

"So you're going to say yes?" House raised an eyebrow.

"I... guess." Cuddy was still slightly flustered about the whole situation. "Only if we find an excellent doctor and Sarah understands everything involved."

"Well, I'm not letting her." House gave a shake of his head. "I would rather die than make her-"

"No one's making her," Cuddy cut him off harshly. "She _wants_ to do it."

"And if my body rejects her liver?" House asked, his volume rising. "How would she feel after that? Or if I die on the table? Or if _she_ dies? What if she gets an infection and dies while I get better? Your only... _our_ only child. All because I'm selfish? No."

"I don't want you to die," Cuddy told him, locking eyes with him.

"I don't want to die either," House replied quickly.

"Then take her liver," Cuddy said.

House cocked his head to the side. "So you _do_ want her to have surgery and die?"

"No! I-" Cuddy paused and lowered her voice. "I want to give her permission under the condition that she waits six months in order to really think about and understand her decision."

House raised doubtful eyebrows. "What are you going to do when she doesn't change her mind?"

"Let her do it," Cuddy answered. "You know I'd be willing to go through the process of giving you part of my liver, but I was screened already and my liver wasn't compatible."

"Right," House agreed quietly and rested on his back.

He turned his head away from Cuddy, indicating he was finished with this conversation. She watched him for a moment before lowering herself back down and scooting closer to him. Cuddy placed House's arm around herself. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heart beat through the thin material of his tee shirt.

* * *

Cuddy stirred against the movement next to her. She shifted slightly as she became more awake and realized there was an empty spot beside her. She turned onto her back and listened as the bathroom door closed. It was four limps to the toilet. A soft thud as the cane was set against the wall followed by the clank of the toilet seat going up. Then, the vomiting.

It wasn't an unusual occurrence. On a bad day, House would be chronically nauseous and unable to keep anything down. Usually it happened a few times a month and only lasted a day, but Cuddy noticed his bad days were becoming more frequent. She blinked back tears as she tried to block out the sound of House dry heaving.

Cuddy wanted to go into the bathroom and comfort him. She used to, when he first started to feel sick, but eventually he asked her to stop. He didn't like her to see him like that, bent over the porcelain bowl, a shaky hand on the top of the toilet in order to hold himself up.

House believed his pride was lacking enough due to his cane and his salt and pepper hair. He didn't like being older and he didn't want to lose any more of his pride by having Cuddy constantly see him in toilet dependency state.

She always went in after, though. Cuddy would give him his time and then go to him. He often didn't say much, but Cuddy knew he was grateful for her. He was grateful he wasn't doing this alone.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Cuddy sat up and climbed out of bed. She left the bedroom and padded softly down the hall. She stopped outside her daughter's bedroom and opened the door carefully. She peered into the dark room and stared at the breathing lump hidden under the covers in the bed across the room.

Cuddy entered quietly, stepping over strewn clothes and books. The room had transformed into an unfamiliar territory over the last few years. Hello Kitty no longer reigned and was replaced with pictures of a gruesome looking boy band and posters from the most recent films.

In the darkness, Cuddy found herself standing next to a deep colored red guitar. She lightly ran her fingers over the smooth surface. House bought it for Sarah for her last birthday. She claimed she was done with her Hello Kitty guitar. It rested now in her closet, along with its memories, to be remembered as her first guitar. The instrument that got her started, that got her a father.

Cuddy maneuvered over to the bed. Sarah's mouth was partially open, her breathing deep. Cuddy gently brushed some dark hair from Sarah's face. She had an intense urge to hug her daughter, to bring her close to her chest like she used to when she was young and rock her back and forth. Sarah always could calm easily when enveloped by the warmth of her mother. Cuddy wondered if holding her daughter would calm her own uneasiness now.

Drawing in a breath, Cuddy bent down and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. She ran her thin fingers lightly through Sarah's soft hair before making her way back out of the bedroom. Quietly, Cuddy walked back down the hall and into her own bedroom. She paused in the doorway and listened. The sink was running in the bathroom.

Cuddy headed around the bed and to the bathroom. She knocked gently on the door before opening it. House was leaning heavily over the sink, water dripping from his reddened face into the sink. Cuddy blinked against the light and entered the bathroom before closing the door behind her. House didn't look at her, nor address her presence.

Cuddy crossed to him and placed a warm hand on his upper back. She could feel the tension and the fragile nature that had taken him over. House splashed his face with water and rinsed his mouth.

"Are you all right?" Cuddy asked.

"Get out," House told her and pushed her back slightly as he limped to the toilet.

Her eyebrows drawing together in concern, Cuddy took a step backwards. House leaned over the toilet and began to retch. Cuddy walked over to him and ran her hand up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him. He straightened a bit, breathing heavily, tears on his face.

Cuddy continued to rub his back. She wished she knew of something more that she could do for him. House turned away from her and went back to the sink, where the water was still running. Cuddy watched him, lowering her poised arm after he had moved away from her. House sucked water into his mouth before spitting it back out. He washed his face again.

"Is there anything I can do?" Cuddy's voice cracked.

"Get out," House repeated his previous words.

Nodding, Cuddy passed him and left the bathroom. She closed the door behind herself and walked to the bed as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Cuddy climbed onto House's side and crawled over to her usual side of the bed. She slipped under the covers and shut her eyes.

She wasn't going to sleep. She was going to wait for him, let him decide when to let her in. It was hard for him, she knew, because all of this happened due to a medical procedure he never wanted in the first. A procedure she helped to make happen.

Often times, Cuddy would wonder what life would be like for both of them if he never had the surgery. She was sure he would be dead and that made her wonder what her life would have been like without Gregory House in it. She wouldn't have Sarah and that thought always made her switch gears into thinking about something else because having a life without Sarah always caused a terrible squeezing to occur in her chest.

The water in the bathroom turned off and Cuddy heard the squeaking hinge of the towel rack. His cane thudded on the bathroom floor a few times before the bathroom door opened. House made his way over to the bed and rested his cane in its usual spot against the wall. He climbed into bed next to Cuddy.

Cuddy turned toward him, opening her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Do you _think_ I'm okay?" House asked her.

Cuddy let out a sigh and turned away from him. House rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself. He knew she was only trying to help and when he pushed her away in order to try to spare her some of his pain, he sometimes pushed too hard.

House turned onto his left side and moved closer to her. He slipped an arm over her and ran it underneath her right arm. Cuddy took his hand within her own and kissed his palm. House scooted even closer to her and lowered his head down, allowing himself to fall asleep in the scent of her hair.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, everyone! Thanks for the awesome reviews. I appreciate them so much. I appreciate you all so much. Thank you!!**

* * *

Sarah stood in the doorway to the kitchen, dressed for school. Cuddy was at the stove, cooking eggs in a frying pan. House sat at the dining room table, drinking a glass of apple juice. Sarah leaned against the door frame, eating a banana and staring at House.

"So, how long will it take your failing liver to make you look like this banana peel?" Sarah asked and raised the banana slightly.

"Sarah," Cuddy scolded, a hint of shock in her voice.

"Or a lemon?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"A banana and a lemon are about the same color, if you ask me," House told her.

"Or the eggs Mom's frying up?" Sarah took another bite of her banana.

"Sarah, stop it," Cuddy spoke harshly to her daughter.

Sarah gave a shrug. "I'm just wondering."

"I'll never be that kind of yellow," House said, watching his daughter with eyes that had become dull while the whites developed a yellow tint. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"You can go back to _normal_ if you take my liver," Sarah replied.

"Don't want it." House gave a small shake of his head.

"So, you want to die?" Sarah raised her eyebrows as she crossed the kitchen in order to throw her banana peel away. "That's what you're telling your _only _daughter? That's really nice, Dad."

"Sarah," Cuddy turned towards her daughter. "I decided last night that if you want to do this, I will let you. But, only after six months of heavy consideration."

"I already know I want to do this, Mom," Sarah said. "And what if Dad gets worse before then?"

Cuddy drew in a breath and dumped the scrambled eggs on a plate in an attempt to make the issue seem less important than it was. "We'll address that if it happens."

"This is totally unfair." Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "Why do you get to make all the decisions for my body?"

Cuddy brought her eyes to her daughter. "Because I am your mother and your legal guardian. You can't donate any part of your body, dead or alive, without my consent."

"I still don't want her to do it," House spoke up from his seat at the dining room table.

Sarah spun around and headed into the dining room. "But, Dad, I want to help you. You're only saying no so you can get pity."

Cuddy followed Sarah into the dining room, the plate of eggs in her hand. "Sarah, don't speak like that to your father."

"What?" Sarah raised an eyebrow. "It's true."

"Go to your room," House told her.

Sarah looked to her father. "I'm just trying to make you see how ridiculous it is to refuse-"

"Now," House cut her off.

Sarah frowned and turned from him before heading to her bedroom. She needed to finish getting ready for school anyway. She wasn't going to give up on her persuasion of giving her father a liver though. After all, according to her mother, she had six months to make him agree.

* * *

Sarah tried the door knob and felt relief that it was unlocked. She heard the television playing in the living room as she opened the front door. Sarah stepped inside and dropped her backpack to the floor. It was Friday, finally the weekend.

"Hey," Sarah greeted as she stepped into the living room.

House looked up from his spot on the couch. "How was school?"

"Fine," Sarah answered him and plopped down on the couch, her eyes on the television. "What are you watching?"

"Stewart Hartzel," House told her.

"What's the topic?" Sarah didn't watch talk shows all that often, but Stewart Hartzel was the one she usually enjoyed watching when she had the chance.

"Transgender people," House said in response to her question. "Transsexuals."

Sarah brightened. "Oh, cool."

House looked to her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sarah smiled. "Don't worry, I like being female."

"That's good," House replied. "It'd be hard to explain that to your mother. She's not as up in the times as we are."

"Right." Sarah went along with her father's humor. She stared at the television. "My friend's saving money for sexual reassignment surgery."

"At fifteen?" House asked. "I wish I knew myself that well at fifteen."

"He's sixteen." Sarah looked back at House. "And he knew since he was a kid."

House was curious now. "Have I met this person?"

"A.J." Sarah answered.

"A.J.?" House repeated. He could recall several sleep overs that involved an A.J. "That Amy girl?"

"Well, he doesn't go by Amy Jo anymore," Sarah informed her father. "It's just A.J. now."

"So, Amy wants to be a guy?" House raised an eyebrow.

"_A.J._" Sarah corrected. "And yeah."

"What do you think about it?" House always liked to pick Sarah's brain.

"I think it's great. He never felt like a girl and he sees himself as a boy." Sarah shrugged. "I see him as a guy."

"And you call A.J. 'him?'" House asked her.

"Of course," Sarah answered. "I wouldn't call you 'she,' would I?"

"No," House gave a shake of his head, "but I'm biologically male."

"Biology isn't everything, Dad," Sarah told him.

"Don't tell your mom that," House warned, humor hinted in his voice.

Sarah gave her dad a smile, but it faded quickly. "It just kind of sucks for A.J. though because surgery's so expensive."

"It can be," House agreed.

Sarah paused a moment. "We have money, right?"

House's eyebrows drew together. "Your parents are doctors, Mick."

"I know that, but you didn't spend it all, right?" Sarah asked. "You and Mom didn't go on some crazy money spree in Vegas?" Sarah waited a moment, but continued after the look she received from her father. "It's just that you need a new liver and I don't know why else you would refuse my liver unless you didn't have the money or you wanted to die. And since you _have_ the money-"

"Right, that's it, I want to die." House nodded, but then let out a sigh, his face tensing. "I don't want _you_ to die."

"I'm not going to die, Dad!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'll be fine. Doctors do these kinds of surgeries all the time, right?"

"Not on fifteen year olds," House replied.

"Dad, this is stupid," Sarah said. "Take my liver. It's healthy. Don't you want to be healthy?"

House held back an eye roll. "Of course I do."

"Then-"

"Teenagers believe they are invincible," House cut Sarah off. "They think nothing bad can happen to them."

Sarah gave her father a look. "I know bad things happen-"

"Remember two months ago when we grounded you?" House cut her off for a second time.

"Yes," Sarah replied, partly offended that House doubted her memory of this event. "I missed Kelly's birthday party."

"And why were you grounded?" House prompted.

"Because you have to assert your authority over a perfectly mature teen in order to keep boundaries and feel superior?" Sarah guessed, raising her eyebrows.

House knew his daughter had too much wit for her own good sometimes. He also knew it went over many people's heads sometimes as well. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Because you arrived home after one in the morning."

"I was with _friends_." Sarah leaned back into the couch cushions. "We were just driving around."

"On St. Patrick's day," House reminded her. "Demographically speaking, we've got Irishmen swarming Princeton."

Sarah frowned. "Dad."

"Again, your parents are doctors," House told her. "We're not oblivious. We've seen the bashed in heads, the DOA's, the kids that were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Okay," Sarah's annoyance was clearly evident in her tone.

She frowned and stared across the room at the television. House eyed her up for a moment before directing his gaze toward the television as well. When the commercial break came on, Sarah looked to her father and spoke calmly.

"Dad, I know the risks of having the surgery and I want to do it regardless. Doesn't that mean something?"

House looked to his daughter. "It means you're making a terrible mistake."

Sarah shook her head. "I wish you would all stop being so pessimistic about this. Besides, Mom said six months and if I have to wait that long, I will." Sarah waited a moment before heading in for the kill and muttering under her breath, "I just hope you can last that long."

"Don't worry," House caught on to what she was trying to do. "I'll last that long."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed dejectedly. "It's just... you're getting kind of old."

"When you can outplay me on guitar, then I'll admit I'm old," House told her.

Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "Oh, please. I can outplay you any day."

"Yeah, right," House replied sarcastically.

"You wanna challenge me?" Sarah asked, perking up a bit. "We can do it right here, right now."

House shook his head. "I don't think so. It would be too humiliating for you."

"Humiliating for me?" Sarah repeated. "I'm not going to be the one confessing I'm old after it's all over."

House's brow furrowed. "That's funny because neither am I."

Sarah shrugged. "We can let Mom decide tonight."

"That's not fair," House said. "She always sides with you."

"Life's not fair," Sarah replied simply.

"Oh, how I've taught you well." House smirked.

Sarah smiled, but it faded into complete seriousness. "Dad."

House raised his head slightly, eyes on her. "What?"

"Take part of my liver," she told him, two pairs of matching blue eyes locked on each other.

House paused a moment, seeing the woman in the person he always called his child. He gave a slight nod. "We'll see."

Sarah gave him a small smile. For the moment, that was good enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, everyone! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! And thank you for all the comments on the last chapter!**

* * *

"Mom!" Sarah called out toward the house from the middle of her bedroom. "Mom!"

"What?" Cuddy shouted from her own bedroom while hurriedly pulling a shirt over her head.

"Where's my shirt with the things on it?" Sarah asked and picked through a pile of clothes on her floor.

"A little more specific," Cuddy replied.

"The purple shirt with the little phrases and pictures on it in black." Sarah straightened and scanned her room. "I got it last month when we went into the City."

"The one you bought in that cramped, dirty store in Greenwich Village?" Cuddy asked and fastened the clasp of her necklace.

Sarah stopped and looked toward her open doorway. "Yeah, that one!"

"I put it in your closet," Cuddy replied and crossed to her own closet to find a pair of heels.

Sarah frowned. "It's not there. I looked."

"It better be there unless someone is coming in and stealing your wardrobe," Cuddy called out loudly from inside her own closet.

"Ugh!" Sarah let out a frustrated cry as she headed for the closet she checked twice already. "Mom!"

Cuddy drew out of her closet and slipped on her heels. "Wear something else. We're just going to dinner."

"I _know_," Sarah replied, annoyed. "But we're going to be a big group and everyone will be looking at us!"

"No one's going to be looking at us." Cuddy shook her head even though her daughter couldn't see her. "Just find something to wear. We're going to be late."

"That's because you came home from work late."

Cuddy looked toward the source of the voice. House had been sitting on the bed, watching in a bored fashion as Cuddy flocked about her bedroom, changing as fast as she could. He stared at her.

"That wasn't my fault," Cuddy told House.

"I found it!" Sarah called from her room.

"Good!" Cuddy called back.

"Come here," House commanded of Cuddy gently.

Cuddy crossed the room and stood between House's legs. He placed his hands on her hips, drawing her even closer as he widened the gap between his legs until Cuddy bumped into the mattress.

"House." Cuddy stared down at him.

"House, huh?" House smirked and took her hand, giving it a tug so she leaned down toward him. He gently drew her down even more and kissed her gently on the side of her neck, his teeth grazing her soft skin occasionally.

Cuddy closed her eyes, giving in to the calm after her hectic wardrobe change. "Mmm..."

House pulled back and looked up at Cuddy, a smirk still on his face. "Yeah?"

Cuddy straightened and shook her head. "We can't."

"Why?" House's eyebrows drew together. "We're already late. What does it matter by how much?"

"We won't be late if we leave in five minutes," Cuddy told him and took a step back.

"I've been dressed and ready for the last twenty minutes," House said, placing a frown on his face.

"And it would be a waste of your effort if I were to undress you now." Cuddy smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I don't think so." House shook his head, playing the serious role now.

"Ew, what are you guys talking about?" Sarah spoke from the doorway.

Cuddy looked to her daughter and stepped away from House. "Nothing."

"Right." Sarah rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her purple tee shirt she had so desperately looked for. "Are we going?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered and scanned the bedroom for her purse. "Now."

House stood from the bed and headed for the door. Cuddy snatched her purse from her dresser and followed after him. Sarah led the way to the front door. She looked to her father.

"Dad, are you going to be all right going to dinner?"

House looked to his daughter. "Yes."

"And are you going to eat?" Sarah asked.

"I could eat a horse," House said.

Sarah frowned, staring at him. "Okay."

With a shake of her head, Sarah opened the front door and headed out of the house. House looked to Cuddy.

"What's with that look she gave me?" House asked. "She got it from you."

"Oh, please." Cuddy frowned, producing the same expression.

"That look." House pointed. "Right there."

"Shut up." Cuddy smirked and brought his head down toward her so she could plant a kiss on his lips.

* * *

Wilson looked up from his seat next to Claire at the reserved table in the chosen place to have dinner. Jack, his hair in a dirty blonde shag cut, sat next to his father. Olivia, her brown hair in curls around her face, smiled brightly when she saw Sarah.

"Ah, you're here." Wilson gave a smile first to Cuddy, then to House.

"Sorry, I was stuck at work later than I planned." Cuddy took the empty seat next to Claire.

"That's all right." Claire gave her a smile. "We waited to order."

"Oh, thank you." Cuddy returned the smile.

Sarah took the empty seat next to Olivia while House sat between Cuddy and Sarah. Cuddy placed her hand on House's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze to give him a bit of comfort.

"Hi, Sarah," Jack greeted.

"Hi, Jack," Sarah returned the greeting.

"I got this new game for my GameBuddy." Jack extended his slim handheld game system in her direction.

"Cool," Sarah unenthusiastically replied.

Sarah rolled her eyes and Cuddy shot her a look. Sarah exchanged a look with her mother, then turned to Jack. It wasn't that she disliked Jack, it was just that he tried too hard to impress her sometimes because of his admiration for her, and Sarah had recently been finding it more annoying than endearing.

"What's the game about?" Sarah asked Jack in a brightened tone.

"You're a detective trying to solve cases and fighting crime," Jack told her excitedly. "They have these exercises for your brain and then you beat the bad guys. It's really cool."

"Jack, put that away," Claire told her son.

"Why?" Jack frowned. "Olivia's playing hers under the table."

Olivia looked up quickly from her lap. "Am not!"

"Olivia," Claire warned, but a hint of gentleness was in her voice.

"She's not even suppose to have hers because she was in a fight with Mikey Davidson," Jack reminded both his parents.

"Hand them both over," Wilson said.

Jack's eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"Now," Wilson emphasized, reaching his hand out towards both his children.

Jack sighed and handed his red GameBuddy to his father. Olivia frowned and passed her pink one over.

"You're such a tattletale," Olivia hissed at her brother.

"And you're a bully," Jack replied and then winced. "Ow! Olivia kicked me."

"Ah!" Olivia whined. "Dad, he kicked me back!"

"Both of you stop it or you won't be getting your GameBuddies back for a week," Wilson told them. He looked over in the direction of House and Cuddy, who were skimming their menus. He gave a smile. "Kids."

Cuddy looked up from her menu and smiled. "Yeah."

"How are you doing, Greg?" Claire asked.

"Well enough," House answered and set his menu down.

"I was talking to Rick today," Wilson said. "He was asking about you."

"Did he want to know if I was dying?" House raised an eyebrow. "That guy always hated me."

"Actually, he seemed pretty upset." Wilson gave a shrug.

House turned to Cuddy. "Watch out for him. Who knows what he's really after."

"Mom, I have to go to the bathroom," Olivia piped up.

Sarah pushed her chair back. "Come on, Liv. I'll take you."

"Thank you, Sarah." Cuddy said to her daughter.

"Yeah." Sarah pushed her chair back in now that she was standing. "If the waiter comes over, I want a Caesar salad."

"And I want the chicken fingers." Olivia mirrored Sarah and pushed her chair in too.

"Okay," Cuddy and Claire both answered.

Sarah led the way to the bathroom in the restaurant. She wasn't positive as to its location, but she was pretty sure she was heading in the right direction. Olivia kept up at her side.

"Sarah?" Olivia looked up at Sarah.

"Yeah?" Sarah asked.

"What's wrong with Uncle Greg?" Olivia's tone was pure curiosity.

"He's sick," Sarah answered, making it as simple as she could.

Sarah led Olivia down a short hallway and pushed open the door to the Women's room. She let Olivia enter first and then followed her in.

"I know he's sick," Olivia said. "But what's wrong with him? Am I going to get what he has?"

"No." Sarah let the Women's room door swing closed. "It's not contagious."

Olivia paused outside the stall door and stared at Sarah, confusion on her face. "That means... that..."

"You can't get it." Sarah shook her head. "It doesn't spread by germs."

"Oh." Olivia nodded. "Right. Is he gonna get better?"

"I hope so," Sarah replied.

"I'm sure he will," Olivia told her and entered the stall.

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, but the more she thought about it as she spoke to someone who didn't fully understand the situation, the more she grew unsure.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for all the reviews and comments, everyone! I appreciate them so much.**

* * *

Cuddy awoke with a start. She blinked a few times in the darkness before she heard the muffled sound of House vomiting in the bathroom. Cuddy sat up, concerned, and wondered how long he had been in there. She waited a moment when he was silent and then rested back down.

The vomiting began again and then a pause as a choked out 'Lisa' sounded before the vomiting continued. Cuddy threw her covers off of herself and rushed to the bathroom. She opened the bathroom door and blinked against the light before she noticed the red liquid ejecting itself from House's mouth.

"Oh, God," Cuddy whispered, clutching her hand to her own stomach as it felt as if someone had sacked her hard with a fifty pound weight. "I'm calling an ambulance."

Cuddy hurried back into the bedroom and picked up the cordless phone. She dialed nine one one and waited as the phone rang.

"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"

"It's my... uh, he's vomiting blood." Cuddy stood in the doorway to the bathroom. "I need an ambulance."

"What is the trauma, ma'am?" the deep voice asked.

"He has cirrhosis," Cuddy said. "He needs an ambulance now."

"You're Lisa Cuddy, correct?" the man asked.

"Yes," Cuddy answered.

"Okay, then we have your correct address and the ambulance is on its way," the man said. "Stay on the line with me, okay?"

"Yeah," Cuddy replied distractedly. She entered the bathroom and placed a hand on House's back as she looked at the red which stained the toilet water. "An ambulance is coming, okay? Kneel down. Come on."

Cuddy crouched down next to the toilet. House waited a moment, trying to regulate his breathing, and then painfully kneeled down in front of the toilet. Cuddy stroked her fingers through his slightly thinning hair, running her nails lightly over his scalp. She watched him, glad he obliged to kneeling since she was afraid he might pass out.

"How's he doing?" the nine one one operator asked.

"Okay." Cuddy nodded and slid her hand down to House's back, where she rubbed gently.

House bent over the toilet and heaved into it. Cuddy continued to rub his back, unaware of the tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Can you tell me how much blood he's lost?" the operator said.

"I... don't know," Cuddy told him.

"Okay," the man's voice softened. "The ambulance is five minutes away."

Cuddy leaned in closer to House. "I'm going to get Sarah up, okay? I'll be right back. Will you be okay?"

House nodded, but didn't look to Cuddy. She stood to her feet and left the bathroom, taking the phone with her. She stumbled through the dark bedroom and into the hall. She removed the phone from her ear and took it with her into Sarah's room.

Cuddy crossed the room, careful to step over her daughter's things. She stopped at the side of the bed and gently shook Sarah. Sarah stirred and then opened her eyes.

"Mom?" Sarah asked groggily and then sat up quickly. "What happened?"

"Your Dad," Cuddy choked out. "I need you to wait at the front door for the ambulance."

Sarah scrambled out of bed. "Ambulance?"

"He'll be okay," Cuddy reassured her daughter. "Please, wait at the front door."

"What happened?" Sarah asked, following her mother out the room.

"Just go, please," Cuddy said and headed back into her own bedroom.

Sarah hurried down the hallway, flicking on the light, and opened the front door. She was greeted by the cool night air that hinted of the approaching summer.

Cuddy placed the phone back up to her ear and made her way back into the bathroom. House was still bent over the toilet. He was breathing heavily, not vomiting at the current moment. Cuddy wet a small cloth and took it to him. She wiped the back of his neck and then his face.

"How are we doing?" the operator asked. "Any change?"

"He's stopped vomiting," Cuddy said, hoping it would stay that way.

"Okay, good," the operator replied. "The ambulance is almost there."

"Thank you," Cuddy told him breathlessly. She leaned closer to House. "How are you doing, Greg? You all right? The ambulance is almost here, okay?"

House nodded, but didn't voice a response. Cuddy went back to running her hand over his back. House began a wet cough that turned into another round of vomiting.

"It's okay." Cuddy was crying again. "It's going to be okay."

Cuddy straightened, hearing the distant sound of an ambulance siren. She wiped away her tears and gave House a gentle pat on the back.

"I'll be right back," Cuddy said and stood to her feet. She headed out of the bedroom and spoke into the phone. "The ambulance is here."

"Okay," the operator replied. "We can hang up now."

"Yes," Cuddy agreed as she hurried from the bedroom. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the operator said. "Goodbye."

Cuddy hung up the phone as she made her way down the hallway. Sarah went to her mother as the red and white flashing lights flickered in the open doorway.

"Is Dad all right?" Sarah asked.

"He will be," Cuddy told her daughter.

Cuddy greeted the paramedics at the door and led the way to the bathroom after instructing Sarah to stay in her bedroom. The paramedics moved into the bathroom quickly. Cuddy watched for a minute before turning from the scene and seeing Sarah enter into the bedroom.

"No," Cuddy said and went to her daughter. "Come on. I don't want you to see this."

"Mom, what happened?" Sarah demanded, angry tears falling from her eyes.

Cuddy wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulders and led her from the bedroom. She directed her into the teen's bedroom. Cuddy closed the door. Sarah pulled away from her mother and crossed the room.

"He's vomiting blood." Cuddy's eyes followed her daughter's pacing.

Sarah suddenly stopped. "Vomiting blood? Is he going to die?"

"No." Cuddy shook her head, even though she couldn't be sure if she was telling her daughter the truth.

"Because of his liver?" Sarah asked and wiped away her tears even though fresh ones kept coming.

"Probably," Cuddy answered.

Sarah crossed to her mother. "Give him my liver, Mom. Please. Do the tests, get me a surgeon, and do it."

Cuddy shook her head slowly. "Not now."

Sarah turned from her mother and moved back across the room. She kept her back to Cuddy, who remained by the door.

"I'm going with your father to the hospital," Cuddy spoke up. "You can either go to Bubba and Zeyde's or Aunt Dory's."

"I want to go with you." Sarah faced her mother.

"No," Cuddy told her simply. "You can visit tomorrow, but you're not going with me now."

"Why?" Sarah demanded, raising her voice. "He's my _Dad_."

"And he's my-" Cuddy cut herself off.

"What?" Sarah asked. "You never married him. He's not your husband, but he is my father. I have more right to be there than you do. Let me go."

"No," Cuddy replied. "You're going to Aunt Dory's. I'll call her now and won't leave until she picks you up."

"This isn't fair!" Sarah shrieked. "Mom, it's not fair! I want to _help_!"

"There's nothing you can do for your father tonight, Sarah." Cuddy raised her voice in order to make sure Sarah heard and understood her.

Sarah shook her head. "He's going die and you're going to let him."

Cuddy approached her daughter, who quickly folded her arms across her chest. Cuddy stopped in front of Sarah, locking eyes with her.

"I'm not letting anyone die," Cuddy said.

Sarah's bottom lip quivered slightly as her tears quickly fell. Cuddy pulled Sarah into a hug. Sarah unfolded her arms and wrapped her arms around her mother. She buried her face against Cuddy's shoulder, getting it wet with tears.

"Sh..." Cuddy stroked Sarah's hair, giving her comfort even though Cuddy's tears were freely flowing as well. "It's going to be all right."

"I'll call Aunt Dory," Sarah said as she pulled away from her mother.

Cuddy nodded and let herself out of the bedroom as Sarah located her cordless phone. Cuddy walked back down the hallway and peeked into the bedroom before entering. All the lights were on by now and Cuddy was feeling particularly overwhelmed.

One of the paramedics was standing in the bathroom doorway as Cuddy entered before he moved further into the bathroom. Cuddy located a pair of jeans and slid them on before jamming her feet into the closest sneakers she could find. Her pajama top still on, Cuddy headed over to the bathroom.

The stretcher was extended and House was lying on top, leaning on his left side, a plastic basin in the hand of the paramedic standing near House's head. House's shirt was stained with blood and there was splashes of red on the tile floor.

Cuddy moved out of the way as the paramedics wheeled the stretcher out of the bathroom and toward the door of the bedroom. Cuddy followed them from the room and down the hall. She stopped at Sarah's closed bedroom door as the paramedics took House from their home.

Giving a quick knock, Cuddy opened the bedroom door. Sarah was sitting on her bed, finishing putting her shoes on. She looked up when the door opened, appearing more calm and free from tears. She stood to her feet.

"Did they take him out?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah." Cuddy gave a nod. "Is Aunt Dory on her way?"

"She dressed quickly and just left," Sarah answered. "You should go with Dad. I can wait here without you."

Cuddy crossed to her daughter and pulled her into another hug. "I'm not leaving you alone. You're not going to be alone after a night like this." Cuddy pulled away from her daughter. "I'm going to change my shirt and brush my hair. I'll be back."

"Okay, Mom."

Sarah watched her mother go and then crossed her bedroom. She looked down the hall and caught a glimpse of Cuddy disappearing into her bedroom.

"You shouldn't be alone either," Sarah whispered as she leaned against the door frame before letting out a sigh.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, everyone! Here's the next chapter. And thank you so much for all the reviews!!**

* * *

"Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy spun around and faced Dr. Lyons. He gave her a smile, which immediately relieved her. She approached him.

"We've stopped the bleeding and put him on some medications," Dr. Lyons informed her. "We'd like to keep him a day or two, but he should be able to go home as long as he continues to take the prescribed medicine."

"Of course." Cuddy nodded.

"And he's on a transplant list, correct?" Dr. Lyons asked.

"Yes," Cuddy answered. "He needs a liver soon, doesn't he?"

Dr. Lyons paused a moment. "Well, yes, this will definitely move him up on the list."

Cuddy gave a smile that hurt. "You'd think that'd be a good thing, but it only means he's getting worse."

Dr. Lyons placed a comforting hand on Cuddy's arm and gave a gentle squeeze. "We still have some time. You can go in and see him. He may be a bit out of it."

"Okay," Cuddy replied. "Thank you."

Cuddy followed Dr. Lyons down the hall and into House's hospital room. The blinds were drawn around the room and the hospital lights made his skin seem unnatural and unfamiliar. Dr. Lyons closed the glass door behind him as he left Cuddy alone with House.

House was asleep, his mouth slightly open, the same way his daughter slept. Cuddy crossed the room and pulled a chair next to his bedside. She seated herself and took his cold hand within hers. She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand as she blinked back tears.

"I love you," Cuddy whispered to him.

"_How much, would you say, do you love me?" Cuddy asked him as she climbed into bed alongside him._

_House looked to her, completely serious. "I don't love you at all."_

"_You say that so much, I'm going to start thinking it's true." Cuddy turned off her lamp and scooted down under the covers._

"_Would that be terrible?" House replied and settled down as well._

"_I guess it wouldn't be terrible," Cuddy turned toward him. "After all, I don't have an inkling of affection for you. I was just asking how much you loved me."_

"_It's a good thing you asked." House faced her, putting his weight on his left side. "Because I don't love you. Not at all. Not a bit. None."_

"_What are we going to do then?" Cuddy asked._

"_Sex?" House smirked._

_Cuddy smiled, holding back her laugh. "I don't think I can have sex with someone who doesn't love me."_

"_Then, I guess it's a good thing I love you," House replied._

"_Are you sure?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows._

"_Completely." House gave a nod._

_Cuddy shifted slightly. "Why don't I believe you?"_

_House slid his hand over her thigh. "Good question."_

_Cuddy scooted closer to House as his hand slipped to her backside._

"_Maybe you should go," Cuddy suggested. "I don't know if you love me or if I love you. It's quite complicated."_

"_Maybe I could clear it up for you," House tried._

"_It might help," Cuddy agreed._

_House leaned into her and kissed her, tenderly at first, but then with a growing passion. Cuddy slipped her hand up his arm and squeezed the muscle beneath his shirt. House slid his hand back down Cuddy's back and toward her front, his fingers slipping underneath her pajama bottoms. Cuddy pulled away from his kiss and groaned slightly._

"_We can't," she told him, wishing she didn't have to stop him. "We have to get up so early."_

"_Then, let's not go to sleep." House let his fingers lightly circle over her hipbone._

"_We're not that young anymore." A small smile tugged at the corners of Cuddy's lips at remembering those times when they were that young._

"_Hey," House frowned, "I'm still as young and fit as I was twenty years ago."_

"_That's not true." Cuddy gave a shake of her head. "You had your infarction less than twenty-"_

"_Who's fault was that?" House cut her off._

"_I gave you the cane, not the infarction," Cuddy replied._

_House rested back slightly and removed his hand from her. Cuddy let her hand trail down his arm before turning onto her back._

"_It's going to be one hell of a vacation." House studied Cuddy in the darkness, taking in her beauty masked slightly by the tiredness etched onto her face._

_Cuddy smiled and looked to him. "You think?"_

"_Yeah." House returned a small smile to her. "Mick won't stop talking about getting to see Belle. That's the one with the Beast, right?"_

_Cuddy's smile grew. "That's the one with the Beast."_

"_And she wants to see those singing guppies," House added. "And go on the Mad Hatter teacups ride."_

"_Wow, look at you with the lingo," Cuddy raised her eyebrows._

_House rolled his eyes. "She only mentions it six times a day."_

"_She's excited," Cuddy said. "I'm surprised she even went to bed tonight."_

"_You know who shouldn't go to bed?" House asked. "Us."_

_Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "Greg."_

"_It's going to be a long week in Disney," House warned her teasingly._

"_You know, we did get the villa hotel with a separate bedroom," Cuddy reminded him._

_House's eyes widened slightly in false shock. "How did I forget that important detail?"_

"_Old age?" Cuddy guessed._

"_No." House shook his head. "I must have been thinking about you corrupting our nine year old daughter by wanting sex on a Disney World vacation."_

"_Right, that must have been it." Cuddy nodded. "I was just mentioning it anyway. You're right. We shouldn't have sex."_

"_Well, let's not be hasty," House told her. "If you can't go a week without sex, who am I to stop you from jumping me the minute we close that bedroom door?"_

"_I think I've proved that I can, in fact, go without sex," Cuddy said. "I remember a particular month when-"_

"_Because you stopped talking to me!" House cut her off._

"_Because you were being an asshole and undermining me," Cuddy quickly replied._

_House softened his voice. "And we're fighting about this now because...?"_

_Cuddy smiled and let out a tired sigh. "Oh, I don't know..."_

_House leaned over and kissed Cuddy on the forehead before bringing his lips down to hers. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on hers._

"_Goodnight," he told her quietly and Cuddy gave him a smile in return._

_House rested on his back. Cuddy drew in a breath and closed her eyes. It really was late and they had to be up in four hours in order to make sure they made their flight. Cuddy was nearly asleep when House spoke up._

"_Did you want me to propose to you?"_

_Cuddy's eyebrows drew together and she looked to House. "As in marriage?"_

"_No." House rolled his eyes. "As in a budget proposal."_

_Cuddy frowned. "Do we have to talk about this now?"_

"_I'm curious." House shrugged. "Do you want to marry me?"_

"_I..." Cuddy paused a moment and then shook her head. "No."_

"_Okay," House replied nonchalantly and closed his eyes._

"_Aren't you going to ask why?" Cuddy asked him._

"_No," House answered her, eyes still closed._

"_I still want you to live here," Cuddy said. "And I don't want you to move out even after Sarah grows up and moves out. I mean, what I'm trying to say is that... I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. Here."_

"_Okay," House replied._

_Cuddy stared at him. "And you don't care that I don't want to marry you?"_

"_No." House opened his eyes and looked to her. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't want a marriage. I'm perfectly fine letting us be this."_

"_Right," Cuddy agreed. "I don't want us to define ourselves by... that. We were never traditional, so why should we start now?"_

"_Exactly." House gave a nod._

"_You're not mad, are you?" Cuddy raised a cautious eyebrow._

"_No," House told her._

"_What made you ask?"_

_House shrugged. "Nothing. Was thinking about you. That's all."_

"_It's not because I'm afraid we'd divorce," Cuddy said quickly._

"_I never indicated that's what I thought about your refusal," House replied._

"_I know." Cuddy gave a small shrug. "I just don't want you thinking it might be. It's not."_

"_Okay." House closed his eyes again._

_Cuddy shifted, a frown on her face. "Are you sure you're not mad?"_

"_I'm not mad," House clarified. "Are you sure you're not mad?"_

_Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "For what?"_

_House let a small sigh escape and opened his eyes. "Because I don't want to get married either."_

"_But, you brought it up," Cuddy pointed out._

"_To make sure you didn't want to," House said in return._

"_I'm not mad," Cuddy told him._

_Silence fell between them. Both were awake, lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. House regretted bringing it up. He was always bad with timing._

"_They have civil unions, domestic partnerships," House spoke up, finishing his point in starting this conversation. "Things we should think about in case anything were to happen."_

"_To happen?" Cuddy repeated._

"_To me," House replied. "To make sure you make the decisions, receive benefits, get my things."_

"_Right..." Cuddy nodded. "Yeah... we can do that. Think about that. When we get back from Florida."_

"_Okay," House agreed. "Good." He looked over to her and spoke quietly. "I do love you."_

_Cuddy turned her head in his direction, locking eyes with him. "I love you, too."_


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi, guys!! Thank you so much for all the feedback. Really. I'm glad you enjoy the flashbacks because I have a few more coming. Thank you!!**

* * *

"How was everything at Aunt Dory's?" Cuddy asked as she broke from the embrace with her daughter.

"Okay." Sarah shrugged. "How's Dad? Is he all right? Can he come home?"

"In a day or two." Cuddy began to lead Sarah toward House's hospital room. "Dr. Lyons stopped the bleeding and put him on medication."

Sarah slid the door open and headed in quickly, leaving her mother in the hall.

"Dad!" Sarah crossed to the hospital bed.

"Hey, Mick." House did his best to offer his daughter a smile.

Cuddy entered the room and closed the door behind her. She crossed the room, slightly anxious as Sarah sat down on the hospital bed next to her father. House still seemed so fragile.

"How are you feeling?" Sarah asked him.

"Better than I was last night," House answered.

"That's good, I guess," Sarah replied. "Considering my liver now, aren't you?"

"Nope." House gave a quick shake of his head.

Sarah deflated slightly. "Dad..."

"Sarah, let's not discuss this now, okay?" Cuddy cut into the conversation. "Come on, we'll let your father sleep."

Sarah stared at her mother. "But, I just got here."

"We'll come back later tonight." Cuddy nodded.

"Your mom's right, Mick," House spoke up. "I'm about to doze off any minute. Damn drugs. Go home, take a nap. You look like you slept less than your mother."

Sarah took her father's hand. "I don't want to leave you so soon."

"Don't worry." House gave her hand a squeeze. "You've got my permission."

"Come on, honey." Cuddy placed a hand on her daughter's arm.

"All right, fine," Sarah agreed as she slid off the bed. "Just don't die on me, okay?"

"Okay," House said and gave her another smile that hid the emptiness he felt behind his agreement.

* * *

"Mom?"

Cuddy turned over in her bed and looked to the doorway. Sarah stood there, nervous and tired, wearing jeans and an oversized tee shirt with Mick Jagger's face on it.

"Yeah, hun?" Cuddy asked her.

Sarah stepped further into the room. "Can I sleep on Dad's side?"

"Yeah." Cuddy nodded.

Cuddy scooted closer to the edge of the bed as Sarah walked around to the empty side and climbed in. She settled down and breathed in the scent of her father that lingered on his pillow. Sarah looked to her mother, who was facing away from her.

"Mom," Sarah started.

Cuddy turned over in the direction of her daughter. "What, honey?"

"He needs my liver," Sarah told her.

Cuddy let out a breath. "Sarah..."

"Mom, he was vomiting blood!" Sarah said harshly. "He doesn't have much longer, let alone six months. Please just give me permission."

Cuddy shook her head. "If something happened to you..."

"It wouldn't be your fault, Mom," Sarah replied.

"Yes, it would be, Sarah, because I am the one who is suppose to protect you and if I let you put yourself in danger-"

"Mom, _please_." Sarah felt the tears start that she so desperately wanted to keep away. "I don't want Dad to suffer anymore."

Cuddy studied her daughter's face and then comfortingly wiped away the tears that fell. "We'll see how he does on the medication once he's home, okay? We'll see."

"Okay." Sarah gave in easily and scooted closer to her mother. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too," Cuddy replied, giving her daughter a small smile.

Sarah closed her eyes, but remained awake. She couldn't nap and was surprised her mother was trying to. Sarah blamed it on getting older. Her mother used to never take naps.

Within a few minutes, Cuddy was asleep. Sarah opened her eyes and watched her mother for a few moments before climbing out of bed. Immediately, the scent of her father left her. Sarah picked up his pillow and carried it with her into the hallway.

Her nose and mouth covered by the pillow, Sarah made her way down the hall. She stopped in the doorway to the living room and stared at the piano in the corner. It was her father's. He brought it with him when he moved in. Sarah smiled lightly, remembering how her mother had been frantic, thinking all their stuff wasn't going to fit.

Sarah lowered the pillow and made her way over to the piano. She clutched the pillow tightly against her with one arm while the fingers of her free hand lightly skimmed over the white keys. She pressed down on one of the keys, producing a low sound, sad and empty.

Clutching the pillow again with both hands, Sarah made her way over to the bookcase. It was a mishmash of her mother's and her father's books. They were jammed in too tightly, rows and rows of uneven books, worn and dusty. There were more books, Sarah knew, in boxes in the basement. She wondered if they would go through them if her father died.

"_This is where you live?" Sarah stared, mouth agape, at her father's apartment. She never had put him in a context that wasn't her home or the hospital._

_House faced her, cocking his head to the side. "You don't like it?"_

"_You have a piano!" Sarah ignored his question in her enthusiasm and hurried over to the piano. She pounded hard on the keys._

_House winced. "Soon to be yours."_

_Sarah stared up at him. "You're bringing it?"_

"_Why?" House frowned. "You think I should leave it here?"_

"_No!" Sarah exclaimed. "I love it."_

"_Good," House replied._

_He moved over to the couch and sat down. House watched as Sarah took another look around his living room. Sarah had shown interest in where House spent his time when he wasn't with them. Cuddy thought it would be a good idea for her to see his apartment. After all, he wasn't going to be living there much longer anyway._

"_Are these your books?" Sarah stared at the bookcase, in awe of the size of it._

"_No," House told her. "They were here when I moved in."_

_Sarah spun around, facing him. "They were?"_

"_I was joking," House said._

"_Oh." Sarah looked back at the bookcase. "Will you read something to me?"_

"_What?" House asked, thinking he misheard her. She never asked him to read to her. It was a foreign notion to him. He shook his head. "No. Those aren't books for kids."_

"_Please, Dad." Sarah turned in his direction and begged. "Please."_

"_Your mother will get mad," House replied._

"_Nu-huh." Sarah shook her head. "She won't. I promise."_

"_I'm holding you to that promise." House pointed a finger and then gave a nod to the bookcase. "Pick one out."_

_Sarah skimmed the choices, eyebrows drawn as she read the titles. "What's this? Free... free... uhd. Free-uhd."_

"_Freud," House corrected. "He was a physician. A doctor. You probably wouldn't like it. Pick another one."_

"_Okaaay." Sarah dragged the word out. "Hmmmm. _Hamlet_. Who was he?"_

_House smirked. "You might like that one. Bring it over."_

"_What's the book about?" Sarah asked as she pulled the book from the shelf._

"_It's about Hamlet, a prince," House told her. "It's a play written by William Shakespeare."_

"_I like plays!" Sarah smiled and crossed to the couch. "Mommy took me into the City to see _Beauty and the Beast_."_

"_Here." House took the book from her. "Let's find a good scene." House flipped through the pages as Sarah sat on his left side. He looked down at her. "Do you want to be the Queen and my mother?"_

"_Yeah!" Sarah agreed, excitedly. "Are you Hamlet?"_

"_Yes." House gave a nod. "And you are Queen Gertrude."_

"'_Now, mother,'" House started grandly, reading from the text. "'What's the matter?'"_

"_Hamlet-" Sarah stopped, unsure of the next word._

_House frowned. This really wasn't for a third grader. He whispered, "'Thou hast thy.'"_

"'_Thou hast thy,'" Sarah repeated and then read on, "'father much off-en-ded.'"_

"'_Mother, you have my father much offended,'" House read, putting on his grand act again._

"'_Come, come, you answer with an' id... idd-uhl?" Sarah looked up at her father._

"_Idle," House corrected._

"'_Idle tongue,'" Sarah finished, her eyes back on the book._

"'_Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.'"_

"'_Why, how now, Hamlet?'" Sarah asked as she hit her father's left leg with the back of her hand._

"'_What's the matter now?'" House went on._

"'_Have you forgot me?'" Sarah read._

"'_No, by the rood, not so.'" House continued. "'You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife. And- would it were not so- you are my mother.'"_

_Sarah looked up at her father. "Dad, I don't know what's going on."_

"_Don't worry, Mick." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Not many people do."_

"_But, I wanna know," Sarah said._

_House closed the book and stood from the couch. "You'll get an earful of _Hamlet_ in high school." He looked to her as he slid the book amongst the others on the shelf. "Something to look forward to."_

_Sarah let out a sigh. "That's a long time from now. Can't we still read it?"_

"_No," House told her. "But, when you get the assignment in your high school English class, I promise you, Mick, we'll read it together then."_

Sarah stared at the bookcase. She readjusted the pillow and then pulled _Hamlet_ from its squished in place between _Long Day's Journey Into Night_ and _The Picture of Dorian Grey_. She looked it over. Next year was when she would be reading it for English class. She had refused to read it until then, not wanting to mess up any part of the promise her father had made her.

Stubbornly, Sarah pushed the book back in between the others. She was going to read the play next year with her father. And, she vowed, if he died before then, she would risk failing sophomore English because she was never going to read _Hamlet_ without him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey, guys. Thanks so much for the comments and reviews. We've got another flashback this chapter. :o)**

* * *

"I got the door," Sarah declared and held the door open as her mother helped her father into their home.

"You're doing fine," Cuddy told House, holding him up as best as she could. "Do you want to go on the couch or to the bedroom?"

"I can't make it to the bedroom," House said gruffly.

"Okay."

Cuddy struggled slightly and led House into the living room. Sarah shut the front door and hurried to her bedroom to retrieve some items her father had asked for. Cuddy aided House in sitting on the couch. House flopped back onto a few pillows, worn out.

"How's that?" Cuddy took his cane from him and set it on the coffee table. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." House nodded, catching his breath. "Could you get me some water?"

"Sure." Cuddy paused a moment and then left the room.

House grimaced and turned slightly. He felt nauseous and tired. However, he perked up when Sarah entered the room.

"I brought some DVD's up, per request." Sarah held up the DVDs she had pulled from the boxes in the basement. "A couple Woody Allen's, a couple seasons of _General Hospital_, and season one of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. I thought that one sounded fun."

"You ever see Buffy?" House asked her.

"No," Sarah answered. "Like I said, thought it would be fun."

"Yeah," House agreed.

Cuddy walked back into the room and over to the couch. She offered the glass of water she was holding to House. "Here, hun."

"Thanks." House reached for the glass and then took a sip.

"Mom, we're going to watch _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_," Sarah set the other DVDs on the coffee table beside House's cane before looking to her mother.

"No, you're doing your homework," Cuddy said.

Sarah frowned. "Mom-"

"If I remember correctly, you have a project to finish, reading to do, and your finals are coming up," Cuddy replied, cutting her off.

Sarah sighed and set the DVD on the table with the others. "All right."

"We'll watch it later, Mick," House told her.

"'Kay, Dad."

Sarah headed for the doorway, but not before Cuddy pulled her into a quick hug before letting her go. Cuddy looked down at House.

"Want me to get you anything else?" Cuddy asked House. "Or I can put a movie in?"

"No." House closed his eyes.

Cuddy took the glass from him and set it on the coffee table. "Are you in pain?"

"Yeah," House gave a slight nod. "I'm going to try and sleep it off."

"Okay." Cuddy nodded as well. "I wish there was more I could do."

"You've done enough." It came off slightly harsh, which surprised him.

"Okay," Cuddy said again. "Well... I have some paperwork to do. I'll be in the dining room so if you need anything, just give me a call."

"Yeah," House replied and fell asleep soon after Cuddy left the room.

* * *

"Hey..." Cuddy greeted softly, her thumb gently massaging House's arm.

"Hey," House replied groggily.

"It's late," Cuddy told him. "You want to go into the bedroom?"

"How long was I asleep?" House realized just how dark it was.

"Seven hours," Cuddy answered him. "Come on. I'll help you to the bedroom."

House shivered, causing goose bumps to erupt over his skin. "It's cold in here."

"You're running a fever." Cuddy kissed his forehead. "Come on."

Cuddy aided House in sitting up. She picked up his cane and handed it to him. House used it to help him stand and Cuddy quickly placed his left arm around her. She led him from the living room and to the bedroom.

House groaned slightly and Cuddy helped him to the closest side of the bed, her side. House lowered himself down and Cuddy pulled the covers over him. She set his cane against the night stand and placed another kiss on his forehead.

Cuddy moved around the bed and climbed onto House's usual side. She was already in her pajamas and she slipped underneath the covers. House looked over at her.

"Is Mick asleep?" he asked.

"Yeah," Cuddy answered, her voice quiet.

"Damn." House breathed out.

"It's okay." Cuddy reached over and rubbed his arm comfortingly. "She knows you're tired."

"No excuse," House replied.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Cuddy told him.

"You should have woken me up," House said.

"Are you serious?" Cuddy sat up and stared at him. "You have a fever. You were nearly delirious when I woke you up to take your pills."

"I'm going to go check on her." House forced himself to sit up as well.

"Greg." Cuddy shook her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm all right." House picked up his cane and winced as he forced himself to his feet. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Cuddy watched as he made his way towards the door by himself. She let out a defeated sigh. "All right."

House made his way down the hall and stopped outside of Sarah's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar and he pushed it open further. She was in bed, asleep, and House was able to hear her deep breathing. His eyes were focused on the rise and fall of her blankets. His eyes were focused on his little girl.

_Quietly, House crossed the hospital room, watching the rise and fall of the blanket that held his five year old daughter beneath it._

"_Your mom would probably kill me if she knew I was here," House spoke to the sleeping child. "I was here earlier, talking to her, but to be alone with you probably crosses some sort of line."_

_House looked over to the monitors and the IV she was hooked up to. He let a sigh escape from his lips. House brought his eyes down to his daughter. He reached out, hesitantly, and placed his fingers into the soft, dark hair._

"_But, she's not here now, is she?" House asked and waited for a response. "That's right. I talked her into going home." He paused. "Well, Wilson did. Your Uncle James is good at stuff like that. Can you believe he's got a kid? What is this world coming to..."_

_Sarah let out a whimper and House removed his hand quickly, afraid he might have been the cause. She stirred slightly and whimpered again._

"_Hey, it's all right, Mick," House tried to soothe her._

"_Mommy..." she whined, currently at a place between being awake and asleep._

"_Ah, definitely won't be tellin' your mom about this," House said. "The motherly guilt would kill her."_

_Sarah whimpered again. House was unsure as to what to do for her. It wasn't a frequent occurrence that he was alone with his child. He glanced around the room and his eyes fell to the rocking chair._

_House limped across the room and took hold of the back of the chair. He dragged it over to the side of the bed and then rested his cane at the foot of the bed. House pulled the blankets from the child and reached for her, being careful not to unhook her from the monitors and IV._

_Her skin was still warm from the fever, but it was reasonably cooler from what it had been. House had convinced himself that she would beat this flu and he was proven right. Sarah was a fighter._

_Carefully, House lifted Sarah and then lowered himself down into the chair. He pulled the weakened child closer into him and lowered his head down towards hers, pressing his stubbled chin against her dark hair._

_Again, House found himself unsure of what to do. He began rocking and shifted slightly to take some of Sarah's weight off his right thigh. She squirmed a bit and mumbled something that House didn't catch before settling down._

_House thought back to times when he was sick, back to times when his mother took care of him when his father was away. Back when he was given extra care and attention. He decided to go with his mother's number one comforting technique whenever she had the opportunity to display this affection._

"_Too ra loo ra loo ral," House sang quietly, the words coming back to him easily. "Too ra loo ra li. Too ra loo ra loo ral, hush now, don't you cry." He could only remember the chorus of the song, but he didn't think it mattered because it was calming Sarah down. He continued on, "Too ra loo ra loo ral, too ra loo ra li. Too ra loo ra loo ral, that's an Irish lullaby..."_

_He sang the chorus again and then went to humming. After nearly a half hour, he was assured Sarah was in a deep sleep and he hoped that he had helped in that. Careful not to drop her, House stood back to his feet and set Sarah back in the hospital bed._

_House was sure Cuddy would be back soon. After all, Wilson only convinced her to shower, change, and get something to eat. Once House had tucked Sarah back into the bed, he held one last look at his daughter before picking up his cane and leaving the room._

_When Cuddy would return later that evening, she would stare at the rocking chair, not knowing why it was so close to the bed. And three days later, she would be confused when Sarah would hum a song that Cuddy never heard before and one Sarah couldn't recall the words to._


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, everyone! Thank you for the fab reviews. I appreciate them so much!!**

* * *

Sarah opened the front door and stepped inside her home. She readjusted her backpack strap on her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.

"Hey, I'm home!" Sarah called out, wondering where in the house her parents were.

"Hi, hun!" Cuddy's voice came from the direction of the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom," Sarah replied and made her way down the hall. She stopped at the living room and peeked inside. "Hey, Dad."

House looked to the doorway from his spot on the couch. He gave a small smile. "Hey, Mick."

Sarah let her backpack drop to the floor as she crossed to the couch and plopped down on the end. "How are you feeling?"

"All right," House answered with a shrug. "Tired."

"Still have a fever?" she asked.

"No, it's gone down." House nodded toward the television. "Want to watch _Buffy_?"

Sarah shifted. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

House gave her a look. "If it's about a transplant, you-"

"No," Sarah cut him off. "It's not. I don't want to interview Grandma anymore."

House's eyebrows drew together. "Why?"

"I'm changing my topic," Sarah told him. "To organ donation."

House shook his head slightly. "Mick-"

"And I can interview you," Sarah quickly jumped in. "Please, Dad."

"I don't think I'm the best interviewee," House said. "Especially with the whole drug tie in."

"But, that's part of my project," Sarah replied. "Medications that damage the body, which leads to the need for new organs. I'm going to cover people whose organs were damaged from toxins and those who need organs simply because theirs weren't good enough. Please, Dad, please?"

"I guess," House gave in, finding it difficult to say no.

"Thanks!" A smile brightened Sarah's face. "Want to start now?"

"How about tomorrow after school?" House suggested, not feeling up to it today.

Sarah frowned. "I have to play for Pediatrics tomorrow."

"Wednesday?" House tried.

"Okay," Sarah agreed, her smile spreading again.

Cuddy entered the room, a glass of water in her hand. She gave a smile to Sarah as she crossed to House.

"Hi, sweetheart," Cuddy greeted. "How was school?" Cuddy handed the glass of water to House. "Here."

"Thanks." House took the glass and sipped from it.

"School was fine," Sarah told her mother. "Dad said he'll let me interview him for my English project."

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together, confused since she thought Sarah was doing her project on Alzheimer's. "What topic are you doing?"

"Organ donation," Sarah answered.

"Oh." Cuddy nodded. "That's great."

"Yeah." Sarah stood to her feet. "I'm gonna go practice my music for tomorrow." She turned to her father. "_Buffy_ later, Dad?"

"Sure." House gave her a tight smile.

Sarah returned the smile and headed out of the living room, taking her backpack with her. Cuddy sat where Sarah had previously been and gave a pat on House's legs.

"How are you feeling?"

"Shitty," House answered.

"Want me to help you to bed?" Cuddy asked him.

"No." House nodded toward the television. "I'm just going to watch some TV."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Lisa." House brought his eyes to her. "Don't worry so much. You're making the both of us crazy."

"Sorry." Cuddy gave another pat to his legs. "I'm just worried about you."

House placed his hand on Cuddy's and gave a gentle squeeze. "I know."

* * *

Sarah approached the dining room table and took the seat next to her mother. She looked down at her plate before bringing her eyes to Cuddy and frowning.

"Is Dad eating?" Sarah asked.

Cuddy shook her head. "No. He's in bed, but he said he still wants to watch _Buffy_ with you later."

Sarah looked down at her plate, but she wasn't feeling very hungry. She brought her attention back to Cuddy. "Mom?"

Cuddy set her glass down. "Yeah, hun?"

"I can make him better," Sarah said.

"You don't know that," Cuddy replied in a softened tone.

"My liver might make him better," Sarah insisted. "You could at least test me."

"Sarah, it's not easy to make this kind of decision," Cuddy told her, reaching over and brushing some of her daughter's hair back. "It's not black and white."

Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "I know. I _want_ to do this." Tears began to fall from Sarah's eyes. "I can't live thinking that he died when I could have saved him. I don't want to lose my dad, Mom."

Cuddy reached over and pulled her daughter into a hug. Sarah cried against her mother's shoulder and Cuddy tried to hold back her own tears.

"You're not going to lose your dad, okay?" Cuddy stroked Sarah's hair.

"You can't promise me that," Sarah mumbled against Cuddy.

Cuddy held tighter onto her daughter, knowing that Sarah was right and she couldn't promise her that she wouldn't lose her father.

* * *

House turned slightly in bed, watching as Cuddy pulled back the covers on her side of the bed.

"What are you doing?" House asked.

"Getting in bed," Cuddy answered as she climbed in beside him.

House raised his eyebrows. "It's a little early for you, don't you think?"

"I," Cuddy hesitated slightly, "want to be near you."

"You think I'm going to die," House said.

"Maybe," Cuddy replied.

House shook his head slightly. "I'm not going to die."

"You could," Cuddy pointed out and turned in to face him. "You might. You need a liver." She paused, biting her bottom lip for a moment. "I want to take Sarah to get the tests done."

"No." House rested on his back.

"Dr. Meyers hinted he'd do it if it was critical and we had no other options," Cuddy told him.

"No," House said again.

"Greg..." Cuddy tried to blink back her tears.

House looked to Cuddy. "I won't let her. She could die having surgery."

"I know." Cuddy swiped her tears away. "But, she has a really good chance of making a quick recovery."

"And if something goes wrong?" House asked.

"Then, she dies," Cuddy harshly answered. "And you'll die. And I will be all alone. I _know_ the risks, Greg. And I also know what Sarah thinks about this. If you die, she'll blame herself."

"No, she won't," House replied. "She'll blame us."

"And every day you're not here, she'll wonder if she could have helped you," Cuddy spat back.

"Let her wonder," House snapped.

"God damn it, Greg!"

Cuddy flopped onto her back, too angry for tears now. House let out a sigh and sat up, wincing against the soreness and pain he felt in his body.

"All right, fine." House looked to Cuddy. "Say she doesn't die, but my body rejects her liver. How about that guilt?"

"But, at least she'll know she tried." Cuddy sat up as well. "We'll take her to Meyers and see what he says."

"I can't, Lisa," House told her. "I can't make her go through that."

"So, you'll have her go through the mourning process over your death instead?" Cuddy asked.

House raised his eyebrows. "Are you trying to guilt me?"

"I'm trying to talk about this," Cuddy clarified.

House shook his head and rested back down. He turned slightly away from Cuddy, but not enough to put pressure on his right thigh. Cuddy stared down at him and took a deep breath.

"We'll take her to Meyers," House grumbled, not looking at Cuddy. "But, I don't want her liver unless I'm nearly dead."

"Okay," Cuddy agreed.

House turned onto his back, his eyes locking with Cuddy's. "Promise me you'll hold off as long as possible."

"I promise you," Cuddy said. "She's my daughter, too. I don't want her to go through this either."

"You're giving her permission," House pointed out.

"If she was an adult, you'd already have her liver," Cuddy replied.

"But, she's not an adult." House paused, a sigh passing over his lips. "What if she dies and I live, Lisa? I wouldn't want to live knowing I caused my daughter's death."

"Fine." Cuddy shrugged. "We won't let her."

Cuddy reached over and turned off the lamp. She rested down beside House. After a few minutes passed, Cuddy looked over at House.

"I just don't want her to go through life thinking she could have saved your life if only we let her."

House turned his head in her direction. "We still have time."

He found Cuddy's hand under the blanket and linked his fingers within hers. Cuddy felt tears prick her eyes again and she directed them to the ceiling.

"Yeah," Cuddy whispered, almost too quite for House to hear. "But, not much."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, guys! Sorry about the little bit of wait for this chapter. Thank you for all the feedback on the last one. And the flashback in this one is written for LordXwee.**

* * *

"Hey, Mom," Sarah greeted as she entered her mother's office, her guitar strap hanging over her shoulder.

"Hi, sweetheart," Cuddy replied, looking up from her desk.

"Is Dad here?" Sarah asked and placed her backpack on the floor.

"No, he still wasn't feeling well," Cuddy told her, a small frown on her face. "But, once I finish this paperwork, I'll head up to Pediatrics to watch you play."

Sarah shook her head. "You don't have to, Mom."

"I want to," Cuddy said with a nod. "I'll be up soon."

"'Kay." Sarah shrugged and left her mother's office.

Cuddy directed her attention back to the paperwork on her desk. She hoped she could finish it within the next five minutes. There was a light knock on her office door and Wilson entered.

"Busy?" Wilson raised his eyebrows as Cuddy looked up at him.

"Just finishing up," she answered.

Wilson gave a nod toward the door. "Sarah's going to play for Pediatrics?"

"Yep." Cuddy gave a nod and went back to her paperwork.

Wilson paused and stepped further into the office. "How's Greg?"

Cuddy stopped writing. She raised her eyes to lock with Wilson's.

"Not well," Cuddy told him. "He's getting worse." She blinked away her tears and diverted her eyes. "I'm really worried, James. I don't want to lose him. I don't want Sarah to lose him."

"I know, but he could still get a liver," Wilson pointed out. "And get one in time."

Cuddy shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "I knew that Vicodin would kill him."

"The alcohol didn't help much either," Wilson added and sat in one of the chairs across from her desk.

"No," Cuddy agreed with a raise of her eyebrows. She leaned forward in her chair. "If he gets a new liver, we could kill two birds with one stone."

Wilson frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He shouldn't be on drugs after we give him a new liver," Cuddy said. "It'll just get damaged again. He should have his leg amputated."

"Oh, yeah." Wilson nodded. "I'm sure that's going to go over real well."

"But, with his daughter to think of?" Cuddy asked, knowing she had a point.

Wilson was still uncertain. "Maybe. But, it's a far stretch."

"Yeah." Cuddy frowned and was lost in her own thoughts a moment. She locked eyes with Wilson, bringing herself back to the present. "Well, I gotta finish this, then head to Pediatrics."

"Okay." Wilson stood to his feet. "Let me know if you need anything. And dinner soon, if you can?"

"Oh, yeah." Cuddy nodded. "Definitely."

"See ya, Lise." Wilson headed for the door.

"Bye." Cuddy called after him.

* * *

House shifted and placed his hand to his thigh. He rubbed it, trying to expel the pain from it, but to no avail. He opened his eyes and blinked against the darkness in the bedroom. House turned his head in Cuddy's direction, but realized she was absent from their bed.

Groaning slightly, House sat up. He reached for his cane and used it to help him stand. Hunching, he made his way around the bed and out of the bedroom. There was a soft glow coming from the dining room.

House stopped in the doorway of the dining room where Cuddy was sitting at the table. The kitchen light was on being her. Her hands were on a mug of coffee that sat on the table in front of her. She was staring down at the mug.

"Lisa?" House asked quietly, as to not frighten her.

Cuddy didn't look to him, but merely shook her head. "I can't let her do it. If I lost her..."

House took the seat next to her and let out a sigh. "I never wanted her to do it." He paused. "So, it's settled then."

"She'll argue." Cuddy brought her red rimmed eyes to him. "And I still don't want her to go through life thinking she could have saved you."

"Who says I'll need saving?" House cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe a liver will come around soon."

"Yeah." Cuddy looked away.

"Lisa," House said gently.

Cuddy brought her gaze back over to him. House placed his hand on the table, palm facing up. Cuddy's eyes lingered on his palm for a moment and then she put her hand within his.

* * *

Sarah flopped down on the couch next to her father and gave him a smile. She set her notebook in her lap and took her pen in her left hand.

"Ready for the start of the interview?" Sarah asked him.

"I can't promise I'll be interesting," House replied.

"I'm sure you will be." Sarah gave a nod and poised her pen over her notebook. "First, I want to start off with questions that can relate you to the audience."

House stared at her for a moment. "Okay."

"What is your favorite memory?" Sarah read from the page.

"The day you were born," House answered immediately.

Sarah frowned at him. "Come on, Dad. That's lame. All dad's say that."

"You want me to lie?" House raised his eyebrows.

"I want you to tell me the truth," Sarah told him.

House let out a sigh. "All right. My... _favorite_ memory was when I went to check up on your mother a few weeks after you were born. You were crying, she was a mess, and I held you. I talked to you, and you quieted down."

Sarah finished scribbling and frowned at him once more. "That's it?"

"Yep." House gave a short nod.

"Why is that your favorite memory?" A frown was still on Sarah's face. "Nothing happened."

"That day was when I actually felt like your father," House said. "I was there when you were born and I knew you were mine, but I didn't _feel_ it until that night."

"Oh." Sarah looked down at her notebook. She shifted slightly and then brought her eyes back up to her father. "Dad?"

"What?" House prompted.

"Do you want to know when I felt like your daughter?" she asked him.

House kept his eyes locked with hers. "When?"

"It was the day I was upset that the kids at school were calling Mom a bitch." Sarah gave a shrug. "You talked to me as if we've always been like that, as if you've always been there. It felt like you actually cared about me."

"I do care about you," House replied. "I did. Even then."

"But, you weren't my dad then," Sarah said.

"Yeah." House's tone was quieter.

A smile suddenly formed on Sarah's face. "I have something to show you." She stood from the couch. "I found it the other day when I was going through your stuff."

House's eyebrows drew together. "Why were you going through my stuff?"

Sarah shrugged and hurried from the room. House waited, wondering what she had uncovered. After a minute passed, Sarah returned with his Lupus book.

"I was checking out this book and the middle's missing." Sarah opened the book. "And look what I found inside amongst some other things."

Sarah pulled out a homemade card on pink construction paper and extended it to her father. House took it from her and a small smile spread over his face, remembering its origin.

"_Whatcha up to, Mick?" House asked as he made his way into the living room._

_His nine year old daughter sat on the floor by the coffee table. There were pieces of red and pink construction paper spread out over the table along with markers, stickers, glue, and glitter. Sarah raised her head to look at her father._

"_Valentine's Day is Friday," she told him. "I'm making them for class. And making ones for you, and Mommy, and Uncle Wilson, and Aunt Claire, and Aunt Dody, and-"_

"_What's that?" House pointed to the lopsided heart drawn on pink paper with a red marker._

"Daddy_." Sarah rolled her eyes. "It's a heart."_

"_That's not a heart," House said. "Here. Let me show you."_

"_Okay..." Sarah was uncertain, but she gave House the red marker._

_House sat on the couch and quickly sketched out what an actual heart looked like on the construction paper. When he decided it looked realistic enough, he capped the marker and slid the paper closer to Sarah._

"_There." House gave a nod to the paper. "That's a heart."_

_Sarah stared at the paper. "No, it's not."_

"_Yes, it is," House replied. "That's what's right there." He pointed to her chest. "Trust your ol' man."_

"_No." Sarah shook her head. "Hearts are prettier than that. That looks like chewed gum."_

_Cuddy's head popped into the living room. "Dinner in five."_

"_Mom!" Sarah called out as Cuddy disappeared._

"_What, hun?" Cuddy asked as she stepped back into her daughter's view._

"_Can you draw a heart?" Sarah asked her._

"_Yes." Cuddy nodded._

"_Will you draw one for me?" Sarah held up a purple marker._

"_Sure." Cuddy walked over to the construction paper and took the marker in her left hand. She quickly drew two halves of a heart. "There."_

"_See?" Sarah made a face at House. "I told you."_

_Cuddy straightened her back and looked to House suspiciously. House shrugged innocently in response._

"_This is what Dad drew." Sarah held the picture up. "He said it's a heart."_

_Cuddy looked down at the picture and frowned slightly. "It is."_

"_What?" Sarah's face scrunched up._

"_In your body," Cuddy told him._

"_My heart looks like_ that_?" Sarah stuck her tongue out as she looked back at the picture._

"_Yes," Cuddy answered her._

"_It's ugly," Sarah said._

"_No, it's not," Cuddy replied gently. She turned to House. "Greg, go check on the food."_

_House rolled his eyes, but obeyed Cuddy's command. Cuddy knelt down on the floor next to her daughter. She took the picture from her._

"_Here." Cuddy pointed to the bottom part of the heart. "See this part?"_

"_Yeah." Sarah nodded._

"_It kind of looks like the hearts you drew," Cuddy said. "In a very... abstract kind of way." She brought her eyes back to her daughter. "Your heart is one of the most important organs in your body other than your brain."_

_Sarah frowned. "I still don't like it."_

"_It's burning!" House's voice called out from the kitchen._

"_Turn it off!" Cuddy called back._

"_Don't know how!" House replied._

"_House!" Cuddy's tone switched to aggravation._

"_Better get in here!" House told her._

_Cuddy gave Sarah a quick kiss and then stood to her feet. She hurried out of the living room and to the kitchen. House gave Cuddy a smile as he passed her before entering the living room. He took a seat on the couch._

"_What's the matter?" he asked Sarah as he noticed her changed demeanor._

_Sarah shrugged. "I don't like drawing hearts that don't look like actual hearts."_

"_We can change that," House said._

_Sarah looked up at him. "What do you mean?"_

"_I'll help you draw hearts." House pulled a piece of construction paper towards himself and picked up a marker._

"_You will?" Sarah was hopeful._

"_Of course," House replied. "What are dads for?"_


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey, guys! Here's the next chappie. Thanks for all the reviews and comments!**

* * *

Cuddy stepped into her daughter's bedroom. Sarah was sitting at her desk, her laptop open in front of her. She was typing and kept referring to the notebook on her desk. Cuddy crossed the room and lightly touched Sarah's hair.

"How's the project coming along?" Cuddy asked and let her daughter's hair fall through her fingers.

"Good, I think." Sarah turned and looked up at her mom. "How's Dad?"

"All right," Cuddy answered. "He wants to try to go into work tomorrow. I don't think it's a good idea, but we both know I can't stop that stubborn head of his."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed and put her attention back on her laptop.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "How are you doing, hun? I know all of this hasn't really been easy on any of us."

Sarah shrugged. "I'm fine, I guess."

"If there's anything you want to talk about, let me know, okay?" Cuddy ran her fingers through Sarah's hair again.

Sarah pulled away. "Okay."

Cuddy began to leave, planning on checking on House and making sure he was all right. Sarah turned in her chair and placed her eyes on her mother.

"Mom?" Sarah stopped her.

Cuddy spun around. "Yeah?"

"Would you and Dad be together if you never had me?" Sarah asked.

"I," Cuddy paused. "I don't know. Probably not. But, maybe. It's not important anyway because we do have you. Why do you ask?"

Sarah stared at her mom. "If I gave Dad part of my liver and something happened to me, would you stay together?"

Cuddy opened her mouth to give her daughter a 'yes,' but as she thought about it, she realized how hard it would be to see House, with part of her daughter's liver, every day if Sarah died. She shook her head.

"I don't know," Cuddy said.

"Don't leave him if something happens," Sarah told him.

"We don't even know if he'll get your liver, all right?" Cuddy replied gently. "You don't need to think about these things, Sarah."

Sarah deflated slightly. "Yeah, I know."

She turned back to her computer and continued working. Cuddy waited a moment, but then took that as her cue to leave.

* * *

Cuddy pulled her vibrating phone out of her purse and checked to see who was calling. She ignored the call and when she glanced up, House was already heading for the elevators.

"Hey," Cuddy called out and followed after him. "Wait a minute."

House didn't want to stop, but he did anyway. He turned to face her. "I've got a lot of work to do."

Cuddy stopped in front of House and locked eyes with him. "You have to take it easy. And I don't want you staying here late."

"I'm fine," he told her.

"You're not fine," Cuddy replied. "Please, Greg, take it easy. You have to be careful."

"Cuddy, I'm feeling well enough to work so let me, okay?" House raised his eyebrows at her.

Cuddy hesitated and then gave a nod. "Yeah."

House turned from her and limped toward the elevator. Cuddy opened her cell phone and dialed the last person who called. She listened to the phone ring as she headed for her office.

* * *

House opened Wilson's office door and stuck his head in.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"Okay," Wilson got the word out before House ducked out and shut the door.

Wilson stood from his desk and left his office, leaving his work behind. He saw House up ahead and watched as House entered into his office. Wilson went down the hall after him and stepped inside House's office. House looked up at him as he moved around his desk.

"Shut the door," House told him.

Wilson made sure the door was closed as House sat down behind his desk. Wilson crossed the room and took a seat across from House's desk.

"Well?" Wilson prompted when House didn't say anything.

"I, um." House diverted his eyes to his desk. "I think..." He paused and then brought his eyes to Wilson. "I think I should have my leg taken off."

"What?" Wilson was unsure of what House was saying.

"Amputated," House clarified.

"Oh." Wilson gave a short nod.

"It would be for the best, I think," House went on. "The pain of an amputation would go away. This pain," he indicated his thigh, "has just been getting worse."

"So, you'd actually let someone cut your leg off?" Wilson asked, not believing a word of what House was telling him.

House leaned back in his chair. "What other choice do I have?"

"What did Lisa say?" Wilson replied.

House leaned forward and shook his head. "I didn't mention it to her yet."

Wilson eyed him up. "You really want to do this, though?"

"Why not?" House shrugged. "I'd get a C-leg prosthetic and be part machine. It's just too bad that I'd have to give up a perfectly good foot and lower leg first."

Wilson's eyebrows drew together, concerned. "How long have you thought about this? You can't just make this kind of decision over a few weeks."

"I've thought about it for a few years," House confided. "I've done my research. I wanted to wait it out, to see if _maybe_ I could continue dealing with this pain, with the stiffness, with the inability to walk on some days because it was too painful and too stiff. I'm tired of it. Besides, I'm dying. And if I _am_ going to live, I'm not going to live in pain."

"You could still live in pain, Greg," Wilson pointed out. "You could have phantom pain. It'd be like your leg never left."

House shook his head. "I wouldn't have phantom pain."

"You have a higher chance of having pain because you're already _in_ pain," Wilson told him.

House let out a sigh. "I know. But, it could go away. Or not be as constant as my pain now. There's a few treatments and preventative measures. Even some hippie treatment crap."

Wilson was still unsure. "You're serious about this?"

"Yes," House answered.

"You'll have to go through therapy," Wilson said.

"I know," House replied.

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "You're never good with therapy."

"I know." House gave a short nod.

"You always push your limits." Wilson pointed his finger. "And you're not as young as you once were."

House made a face. "I'd behave."

"Yeah, right." Wilson rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't screw things up," House's tone was completely serious. "I know it's a huge decision, but I don't want to live like this anymore. Besides, if I can kick the drugs, maybe I'll still be around to see any grandchildren I may have someday. I'd be the cool grandpa with the bionic leg."

Wilson smirked slightly, finding it almost strange to hear his friend speak of being a grandfather. If this was twenty years ago, he never would have believed it. Wilson leaned forward in his chair, coming back to seriousness.

"Your health isn't the best," Wilson's tone matched House's serious one. "Especially after everything you put yourself through. The drugs, the drinking, all the times you almost _died_."

"I know," House agreed with him. "But, this will give me a shot. I... just need a liver. I'm willing to risk it, phantom pain and all, if it'll give me more time. I wouldn't care if this was just about me, but it's about her. It's about Sarah."

"Greg, it might be worse for you to have your leg taken off," Wilson said.

"Then, what's the point of getting a new liver if I'm going to destroy it again?" House asked him, annoyed with his whole situation. "I... I need to do something."

"But, is it worth amputating your leg if it won't help?" Wilson replied. "Is it worth it if you'll still have to take pain meds?"

"It'll be worth it even if I only get a few days a month when I don't have to take any painkillers," House decided.

Wilson sighed. "Greg, you could have pain everyday."

"Are you on my side or not, Wilson?" House shot back.

"Of course I'm on your side," Wilson told him. "I just wouldn't want you to go through all of that if it wouldn't make any difference."

"Yeah." House looked down at his desk. "It's just something to think about."

Wilson nodded and then stood to his feet. "I've got to meet with a patient. Take it easy, House. You're not looking well."

House glanced up at Wilson and then diverted his eyes back down to the papers on his desk.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey, folks! Thanks so much for the great reviews. I'm loving your input and it's very helpful. Thank you!!**

* * *

"Mom?" Sarah stepped into the dining room.

Cuddy looked up from the laptop she was clicking away on. "Yeah, hun?"

"Did you set up a day for the tests with Dr. Meyers?" Sarah asked her.

"Not yet," Cuddy answered with a slight shake of her head.

Sarah frowned. "Why not? We should see if I'm a match."

"I know," Cuddy agreed, "but I said six months to wait."

"But, if something happens to Dad before then, we should know if he could take part of my liver," Sarah replied.

"Sarah, I'm very busy now," Cuddy told her. "Can we talk about it later?"

Sarah paused a moment, her jaw tightening. "Sure."

She turned and left the room quickly. Cuddy let out a slight sigh and looked back at her laptop screen. She still hadn't figured out a way to tell Sarah that she didn't want her to donate.

* * *

"Dr. Meyers?"

"Yes?"

The doctor turned and stared at the teen wearing jeans and a dark purple tee shirt. His dark eyebrows drew together as he tried to place how he knew the girl. It dawned on him.

"Sarah Cuddy?" he asked.

"Yeah." Sarah gave a nod. She swallowed hard, knowing there was no turning back now.

"You look like your mother," Dr. Meyers said and gave her a smile.

"I know." Sarah returned the smile. "We're doing the tests today, right? To see if I'm a match for my father."

Dr. Meyers frowned, "Well..."

"Mom said you'd do it just to see if I _could_ be a match," Sarah jumped in quickly. "She didn't call you?"

"No, she didn't." Dr. Meyers shook his head. "I'll call-"

"She has meetings all morning," Sarah lied. "She said she'd call to let you know I was coming. It's really hard on her with the love of her life being sick and all. She must have forgotten to call."

"Right." Dr. Meyers stepped toward the nurse's station in order to use the phone. "I still should check-"

"She was crying all morning." Sarah slid in his way. "I wish I could do more for her. Or my dad. The best I could do is get the tests done. Mom even wrote me a note to get out of school today. It's the only day this week that I don't have an exam."

Dr. Meyers smiled politely. "Sarah, I need to talk to your mom."

He reached around the counter of the nurse's station and picked up the phone receiver. He punched in the number to Cuddy's office and held the phone up to his ear. Sarah took a step back and sighed, angry that her plan fell through so quickly and without bringing her any results.

"Hi, is Dr. Cuddy in?" Dr. Meyers asked and listened a moment. "Oh. Could you tell her to call Dr. Meyers when she gets in?" He paused. "Thanks." Dr. Meyers looked to Sarah as he hung up the phone. "She was out." He checked his watch. "I don't have an appointment for another hour and a half. I guess I could do an initial exam and take a blood sample."

"Great." Sarah brightened, glad that luck was on her side. "Thank you. It's not like my mom to forget things this important, but she's under so much stress-"

"Yes, of course." Dr. Meyers nodded. "Come on. There's an exam room down the hall."

Sarah felt a smirk cross over her lips. She felt a touch of excitement course through her as she followed Dr. Meyers down the hall.

* * *

Sarah froze on the exam table as she heard the phone in the room ring. She watched as Dr. Meyers walked over to the phone and answered it.

"Hello," he said. "Dr. Meyers."

"It's Dr. Cuddy," Cuddy's voice came through the other end. "You called?"

"Yes, I have Sarah here." Dr. Meyers glanced at Sarah. "She said you told her to do the testing today, but forgot to call. I tried to get in touch with you before, but you-"

"She's with you now?" Cuddy cut him off.

"Yes," Dr. Meyers answered.

"In the exam room?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be right up."

The phone clicked in his ear. Dr. Meyers hung up the phone and looked over at Sarah.

"Your mom didn't okay this," he concluded.

"Yes, she did," Sarah insisted. "She just... didn't know we'd do the tests today."

"I'm going to get my ass fired for this." Dr. Meyers crossed toward the exam table.

"No, you won't," Sarah told him. "All you did was give me an overall exam and draw a little blood. That's no big deal."

"It is when I didn't have parental consent and your parent can fire me," Dr. Meyers replied.

Sarah shook her head. "She won't."

"Why did you lie to me if your mom was going to let you have the tests done anyway?" Dr. Meyers asked and folded his arms over his chest.

"Today was good for me," Sarah said simply.

"Sarah." Dr. Meyers narrowed his eyes at her. "I knew you since you were this big." He indicated a few feet off the ground and Sarah had to hold back an eye roll. Dr. Meyers went on, "Now, the truth?"

Sarah let out a sigh. "She wouldn't give me an answer on when I could get the tests done. I think she changed her mind about it. And I want to help my dad."

"But, going behind your mother's back isn't the way to do it," he replied.

The door to the exam room opened and Cuddy entered. She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes on her daughter.

"Sarah Renée," Cuddy's voice was low and harsh.

Dr. Meyers tensed. "I should go-"

"No," Cuddy told him. "Stay. I want the truth. What did she say to you?"

"What?" Sarah asked. "You think I'd lie to you, Mom?"

Cuddy's attention snapped back to her daughter. "Well, you lied to Dr. Meyers."

"That was only to help Dad," Sarah replied bitterly. "You never were going to let me do it. _You_ lied to _me_."

"No, Sarah." Cuddy shook her head. "I was going to let you do it. I wanted to give you the permission, but then I thought about it more and-"

"And what?" Sarah stood from the exam table. "You didn't have the guts to tell me you changed your mind? You just kept leading me on as if I wouldn't notice that you didn't make any arrangements to get the testing done."

"I think it's for the best now," Cuddy said. "You aren't mature enough to do this, Sarah. You aren't old enough. Dragging Dr. Meyers into this was-"

"I'm not _mature_ enough, Mom?" Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Really? Because _you_ can't even be honest with me, so I don't even want to hear it."

Sarah headed for the door, but Cuddy stepped in her way.

"This isn't over, Sarah." Cuddy locked eyes with her daughter. "You went behind my _back_."

"What do you even care?" Sarah spat. "You obviously don't care about Dad because if you did, you'd let me do this."

"Well, I'm sorry if I care about you, too," Cuddy raised her voice to match Sarah's.

Sarah shook her head and pushed past Cuddy. She stormed out of the room and took off down the hallway. Cuddy went after her, but stopped just outside the room.

"Sarah!" Cuddy called out to her.

"Leave me alone!" Sarah shouted back and continued on.

Dr. Meyers stood in the doorway. "Dr. Cuddy, I'm really sorry-"

"It's all right." Cuddy waved it off. "She's got House's genes in her. I blame it on him."

Cuddy began down the hallway, hoping to catch up with Sarah.

"Wait," Dr. Meyers called after her. "Should I run her blood to see if she's a match?"

Cuddy stopped and turned, thinking a moment. She drew in a breath and then nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

"Why did you do it?"

House limped into his daughter's bedroom. Sarah was sitting close to her desk, her back to him, and guitar in her hands.

"I don't know." She shrugged, and then added bitterly, "maybe 'cause I don't want you to die."

"I don't need the attitude, Mick," House told her and stopped alongside of the chair she was sitting on.

"And I don't need you in here bugging me when I'm busy," Sarah replied.

"You're pissed," he said.

"Yeah, I'm pissed." She looked up at him. "Mom freaked out all because I wanted to help you. I don't know what her problem is."

"She's scared," House stated simply.

"Ha," Sarah scoffed and strummed her guitar.

"Sarah..."

House hardly ever called her by her birth name, especially to her face. She stopped strumming and waited for him to go on.

"She wanted to let you do it," House explained, "but she couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

"Well, I can't bear the thought of losing you." Sarah kept her focus on her closed laptop.

"I'm old," he told her. "You've still got a lot of life left."

Sarah's voice hardened. "Yeah, but it's gonna suck without you."

"Mick..." House placed his hand on Sarah's hair.

Sarah pulled back and looked up at him. "Dad, why can't you just accept my help?"

"Because it's my job, just like it is your mother's, to protect you," House said. "It's selfish for us to allow you to put yourself through this."

"But, I _want_ to," Sarah emphasized.

"Yeah, but you're not old enough to make this decision." House drew in a breath. "Keep practicing on your guitar. You still gotta beat your ol' man in a playing match."


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, guys! Thanks so much for all the reviews on the previous chapter. I appreciate them so much. Thanks!!**

* * *

"She's still pissed at you," House informed Cuddy as he limped into their bedroom.

"Well, I'm still pissed at her." Cuddy replied from her spot in bed and flipped a page of the newspaper.

"In all fairness, you weren't being honest with her," House said and made his way around the bed.

Cuddy lifted her eyes to him. "Like you're a saint. You're not even being honest with me."

"What are you talking about?" House asked and set his cane against the night stand.

"Wilson told me you talked to him about amputation," Cuddy explained as she closed the newspaper and set it on her side table.

House stared at her. "Why would he tell you that?"

"Because," Cuddy shrugged, "I talked to him about it, too."

House sat down on the bed and gave her a look. "You want to be an amputee?"

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him. "House."

"But, you didn't talk to me about it." House shook his head.

"Because I thought you would object," Cuddy told him. "I wanted to get James's take on it. So, you want to amputate your leg?"

"I'm heavily considering it." House leaned over to the lamp on his side and turned it off.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Why now?"

"The pain's worse." House looked over at her. "If I get a liver, it wouldn't matter because I still have this pain, and the Vicodin just isn't doing it anymore."

"So, you'll stop the pain now before it gets worse," Cuddy concluded, nodding.

"Exactly," House replied.

"And phantom pain?" Cuddy asked.

"I'll have to take it in stride," House answered.

"If you want to do it, Greg, I'll be here to help you through it all," Cuddy said and took his hand within her own.

* * *

"Hey," Cuddy greeted as she entered into the dining room.

House was sitting at the dining room table, his laptop open in front of him. Cuddy made her way over to him and wrapped her arms around him, her hands meeting in front of his chest. She could feel how thin his frame had become.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Tired," he answered.

"You should go to bed," she told him.

"You should look at this." House hit play on an online video he had been watching. "Look how fast he's walking."

Cuddy watched the man with one good leg and one C-Leg walk down a sidewalk. The man was confident and smiling, but Cuddy kept her focus on the C-Leg. It swung out with ease, just as a normal leg would have. She was impressed.

"His fake foot's wearing a sandal." Cuddy pointed at the screen.

"It looks good in a sneaker," House said. "Maybe I could try a boot."

"I don't think you could put that in a boot," Cuddy replied.

"But, it's nice though." House looked up at Cuddy.

"Yeah," she agreed.

Cuddy bent down towards him and placed a kiss on his stubbled cheek. After all these years, he still kept his stubble.

"Do you want to come to bed with me?" she asked him as she straightened back up.

"Do I want to come to bed with you," he repeated, taking the tone down. "Do you even need to ask?"

House closed his laptop and stood from his chair. Cuddy took a step back, giving him more room. He picked up his cane and a limped painfully toward the door.

Cuddy watched him carefully. "Want my help?"

"No," he shot back.

House faltered and reached for the wall. His cane dropped from his hand as he did his best to keep himself from falling. Cuddy hurried over to him and wrapped an arm around his backside, helping him to remain standing. House tried to reach for his cane.

"Leave it," Cuddy told him. "Come on."

Cuddy led him from the room and down the hallway. As they passed Sarah's closed bedroom door, House glanced over at Cuddy.

"Have you said anything to her yet?"

"No," Cuddy answered.

"It's been three days," House informed her.

"She hasn't said anything to me either," Cuddy replied.

"You're the adult," he told her.

"I know." Her tone was harsh as they passed through the doorway to their bedroom. She softened slightly as they began to move around the bed. "I'm just disappointed. In everything."

"Everything?" House raised his eyebrows.

"I'm disappointed in what she did." Cuddy helped to set him down on his side of the bed. "I'm disappointed in how I reacted..."

"And you can't admit you were wrong," House added.

Cuddy frowned. "I wasn't wrong. I just... wish I handled it a bit differently. I made her run _away_ from me."

"Come here." House gave a small wave of his hand.

Cuddy stepped closer to him. House reached for her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He gave her a tug and she placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

"Why don't you turn off the lights and get into bed with me?" House hands moved further down.

"Are you sure you want to?" Cuddy asked. "You've been tired and not feeling so-"

"I'm not feeling tired now," House cut her off and placed a kiss on her hip. "I feel well enough to engage in a certain activity..."

He planted a kiss on her other hip. Cuddy smirked and pulled herself out of his grasp. She made her way around the bed and turned off her lamp before climbing into bed with House.

* * *

Cuddy stood behind her desk in her office. She flipped a chart closed as her telephone rang. As she lowered herself into her chair, she placed the chart on her desk and picked up the telephone receiver.

"Dr. Cuddy," she said into the phone.

"It's Dr. Meyers," he identified himself. "How are you?"

"Fine," Cuddy answered.

"I wanted to let you know about Sarah's test results," Dr. Meyers told her.

"Right," Cuddy replied.

"She looks like she may be a potential candidate for Dr. House." Dr. Meyers paused, letting it sink in. "I'd have to bring her back in for the rest of the tests to make sure, but this could work. She could be a very good match."

"Oh." Cuddy nodded and let out the breath she was holding. "Okay. Thank you for letting me know."

"Yep. No problem." He paused again. "Just give me a call if you want to set up a time for the rest of the testing."

"Um... sure," Cuddy said. "Thanks."

Cuddy returned the phone receiver to the console. She sat back in her chair and drew in a deep breath. The ball was back in her court and she really didn't want it there.

* * *

"Hey."

Cuddy stood in the doorway to her daughter's bedroom. Sarah turned in her desk chair to glance at her mother before turning back to the schoolbooks open on her desk.

"What do you want," Sarah grumbled.

"Dr. Meyers called me this afternoon," Cuddy informed her daughter as she entered. "He told me that you're a potential candidate as a donor for your father."

Sarah spun around in her chair. "He ran the tests?"

"I told him he could," Cuddy replied.

"So, what does that mean?" Sarah asked. "You're letting me do it?"

"I don't know," Cuddy answered. "I know you don't understand... sweetheart... how hard of a decision this is. I love you and your father very much. But, you're my baby. I can imagine what it would be like to lose your dad, but I can't imagine losing you. That would kill me."

"But, losing Dad would kill me," Sarah said.

Cuddy shook her head. "No, honey, it wouldn't."

"What?" Sarah stood to her feet. "My feelings for him don't count or something?"

"Of course, they count," Cuddy told her. "But, we would make it through it together."

"No, we wouldn't," Sarah spat. "Because I'd know that you didn't let me save him when I could have. I'd never talk to you again."

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Sarah-"

"Don't even-"

"You're threatening me." Cuddy's tone was a mix of shock and hurt.

Sarah frowned. "I am not."

"You're telling me you'd never talk to me again if I don't let you do this," Cuddy replied.

"Only if he dies." Sarah folded her arms over her chest.

Cuddy held up her hands, wanting to say something more, but words failed her. She lowered her hands and shook her head before walking out of the room.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, everyone! Sorry this took me a little while to get out. And thank you for all the comments on the last chapter!**

* * *

Cuddy leaned forward as she sat on the lid to the toilet seat. She placed her face in her hands as her tears spilled over. Her body shook from the sobs she so desperately tried to stop. A knock on the closed bathroom door startled her.

"You all right in there?" House's voice asked from the other side.

Cuddy cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," he replied.

"I am," Cuddy insisted, even though more tears fell from her eyes.

"You sound like you're crying," House said, listening hard.

"I'm not." Cuddy brightened her tone.

House knew she was lying to him. "Lisa-"

"I'm going to take a shower," she cut him off and hurriedly turned on the shower. "I'll be out in a bit."

House paused, wanting to go in, but he knew not to force himself on her if she really didn't want him to see her as she was. He frowned and limped from the bedroom. He stopped at Sarah's doorway and leaned against the door frame in order to help keep himself standing.

"Still angry with your mom?" House asked as he stared at his daughter's backside.

Sarah turned in her desk chair to look at her father. "Yes. And I'm not talking to her ever again if she lets you die."

House straightened up. "What are you talking about?"

"Mom said Dr. Meyers told her I could be a good match for you, but she still doesn't want me to donate my liver to you," Sarah explained. "If she lets you die, I'll never forgive her."

House narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "Mick-"

"What?" Sarah frowned at him. "Why are you on her side? She's going to let you die."

"This was a decision your mother and I made together." House's voice rose as he forced himself to take a few steps into the room. "It wasn't just her decision."

Sarah rolled her eyes and turned back around in her chair. "Whatever."

"No, not whatever, Sarah," House said. "Don't let me off the hook just because I'm dying. Your mother actually considered it. That's more than I can say for myself."

"Leave me alone," Sarah told him, her back still to him.

"Is that why your mother was crying in the bathroom?" House asked. "Because of what you said to her?"

"How the hell should I know?"

Sarah slid out of her chair, away from her father, and made her way over to her bed. She sat down and picked up a magazine, refusing to look at him.

"You think this attitude of yours will change our minds?" House kept his eyes on her. "If so, you better wise up because you're just making it worse for yourself."

Sarah still kept her focus on the magazine, but she wasn't reading it. She felt her eyes start to tear up. She let the magazine slip from her hands and she quickly covered her face. House softened and limped toward her bed. He sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

"Dad, please, don't die," Sarah begged as she cried against him. "Please... I don't like thinking you won't be here for me anymore. We won't play guitar, you won't teach me how to drive..."

House didn't have any comforting words for his daughter, so he did the only thing he thought he could do. He held onto her tighter.

* * *

Cuddy slid a few wet plates in the rack on the dishwasher. She reached into the sink for another plate as Sarah stepped into the doorway to the kitchen.

"Want me to do that?" Sarah asked.

"Um..." Cuddy slid the other plate into the dishwasher and then looked to Sarah. "Sure. Thanks."

Cuddy picked up a sponge and walked over to the stove so she could clean the mess there. She was surprised that Sarah was talking to her so soon after last night's argument. Sarah made her way over to the dishwasher and began to load the rest of the dishes in the sink.

"I wish Dad came out for supper," Sarah told Cuddy, breaking the slight tension.

"Me, too," Cuddy agreed and applied more cleaner to the spilled spaghetti sauce spot on the stove top.

Sarah stopped loading the dishwasher and looked to her mother. She bit her bottom lip for a moment.

"Mom, I'm sorry," Sarah said.

Cuddy froze and released the sponge from her hand. She faced her daughter.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you yesterday," Sarah went on. "I was just... so angry. And I'm sorry. I don't want you mad at me anymore."

"Come here," Cuddy replied gently.

Cuddy reached out for her daughter and pulled her into a hug. Sarah returned the hug, glad that her mother initiated it.

"I'm not mad anymore." Cuddy pulled back and made eye contact with Sarah. "But, if we want to get through this, hun, we have to work together."

Sarah nodded. "I know."

"Okay." Cuddy released her daughter completely and went back to cleaning the stove.

"Mom." Sarah waited as Cuddy turned. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Cuddy replied.

* * *

Cuddy entered her darkened bedroom. She climbed into bed beside House and settled down next to him. Cuddy turned onto her side and began to run her fingers through House's thinning hair, her fingernails lightly touching his scalp.

"That feels nice," House mumbled.

Cuddy looked up at him. "You're awake."

"Have been for awhile," House opened his eyes and directed them to Cuddy.

"Do you want to get up?" Cuddy asked him. "You didn't have dinner. I put the leftovers in the fridge."

"No." House shook his head and closed his eyes. "I feel nauseous."

Cuddy withdrew her hand from his hair and placed it on his chest. She ran her fingertips back and forth over the thin material of his tee shirt. After several moments of silence, House spoke up.

"I don't want to be buried. It'd be a waste of space to have my body buried underground forever. I'd rather you have me cremated."

Cuddy shook her head. "Don't."

"We have to talk about this, Lisa," House told her as gently as he could. "I know we've mentioned things here and there, but we really have to do this now."

Cuddy pressed her forehead against his shoulder, tears coming to her eyes. She sniffed them back.

"Come on." House opened his eyes and placed his hand on top of the one Cuddy had resting on his chest. "We both knew I'd be the first to go."

"But, I didn't know it would be so soon," Cuddy replied.

"Yeah," House agreed quietly.

"So..." Cuddy looked up at him. "So, what do you want me to do with your ashes?"

"Don't keep them." He made eye contact with her. "That'd be as bad as burying me. Spread 'em out in my office, but make sure the custodial staff doesn't vacuum me up."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him.

"That was a joke," he offered, but she didn't reply. "We need to decide these things. I'm just trying not to make it so serious."

"But, it is serious," Cuddy said.

"I know," House agreed with her for a second time.

"What about your mom?" Cuddy asked.

"Don't tell her," House answered.

"Yeah?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "And what happens when I take Sarah to visit her and you're not with us?"

"She probably won't even know who you are," House replied.

"Sometimes, she knows exactly who we are," Cuddy pointed out.

"Rarely," House added. "She doesn't need to know. Let her be content."

Cuddy frowned. "But, what if she asks?"

"Tell her I'm working," House said simply.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "Greg-"

"Lisa," he cut her off. She fell silent, so he went on, "and I don't want a memorial service, but I assume that you and Wilson wouldn't let me die without having one, so try to keep it small and short. Same with an obituary. Small and short. Okay?"

"And your ashes?" Cuddy forced herself to continue the conversation.

"I don't know." House gave a small shrug. "I guess you could put them in the basement if you don't want to throw them somewhere."

Cuddy stared at him. "I'm not putting you in the basement."

"_I_ won't be in the basement, just my remains," House corrected.

Cuddy became quiet, her eyes tearing up again. She pressed her lips together and then drew in a breath. "Then... where will you be?"

House paused a moment before leaning toward Cuddy.

"Right here," he whispered and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey, everyone!! Thank you for the amazing support. I am sad to say, though, that we only have two more chapters after this one. So, enjoy!**

* * *

"Hey," Wilson greeted as he entered Cuddy's office. "I wanted to stop in and see you before I went home."

Cuddy gave him a weak smile from where she stood behind her desk. A look of concern crossed over Wilson's face. He closed the door to the office behind him and stepped further into the room.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Cuddy shook her head and diverted her eyes. "No."

Wilson's eyebrows drew together. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't?" Cuddy replied, making eye contact, but then looking away again. She moved around the desk and toward her bookcase. She stopped at it and kept her back to Wilson. "I can't do this, James." She shook her head. "I... I don't want to. I don't want to be the one to make all these kinds of decisions." She felt tears come to her eyes. "I'm not strong enough."

"You _are_ strong enough." Wilson made his way toward her. "You can handle this, Lisa. And you don't have to do it alone. I'm here for you, to help you."

"I just keep thinking about what it would be like to lose him." Cuddy blinked away her tears and faced Wilson. "There had been so many times when he almost-" She cut herself off. "This is what's going to do it. This is what will kill him."

"Maybe not," Wilson said. "He may get a liver. We don't know what's going to happen. You can't let yourself lose hope."

"I know... you're right," Cuddy agreed. "It's just... he's becoming weaker, sicker. I'm surprised he even made it through coming into work to talk to you last week. I'm starting to think there isn't much time left."

"But, you can't think like that, Lisa," Wilson told her. "It's not good for you, him, or Sarah."

"I'm thinking realistically, James." Cuddy's tone hardened.

"He has a chance." Wilson placed his hand on Cuddy's shoulder. "It's not completely hopeless. I know the pressure's on with Sarah asking to be a donor, but you can't lose hope yet. He's made it this far, he can make it further."

Cuddy's eyes began to fill with tears again. "It's just so hard sometimes to see him that sick..."

"I know."

Wilson pulled Cuddy into hug, which she readily accepted and returned. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

* * *

"I'm home!" Sarah announced and closed the front door behind herself. When she didn't hear her father call back to her, she immediately felt her heart rate pick up. "Dad?"

Sarah made her way to the living room and peeked in, but it was empty. She turned and went into the dining room, but it was empty, as well as the kitchen. Frowning, Sarah went to her parents' bedroom.

The blinds were pulled down, casting the room into semi darkness. House was on his side of the bed, his eyes closed. Sarah stared at him until he opened his eyes and looked over at her.

"Hey," House said to her.

"Hi." Sarah lingered by the doorway. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm just tired," House answered. "How was school?"

"Okay." Sarah shrugged.

"You made peace with your mom?" House asked.

"Yeah," Sarah nodded, "last night, I did."

"Good," House replied. "What are you doing tonight?"

Sarah shrugged again. "I don't know. Maybe going to the movies. Or sleeping over Kelly's house."

"If you leave soon, leave a note for your mom," House told her.

"I will." Sarah paused. "Will you be okay if I leave before Mom gets home?"

"I was fine all day by myself."

"Right." Sarah took a step back. "I'll see you later, then."

"Okay," House said.

Sarah hesitated a moment. "Love you, Dad."

House forced a smile to his face. "Love you, too, Mick."

* * *

Kelly flopped down on her bed, her eyes on Sarah. She tucked some blonde hair behind her ear.

"So, then I talked to Tad and he said that he didn't have anything to do with it," Kelly continued her story. "Which meant he did, of course."

"Uh-huh," Sarah agreed absentmindedly.

"I told him that those kind of pranks just aren't funny even if the guys are all doing it," Kelly finished.

"Right." Sarah gave a short nod.

Kelly frowned at her friend. "Hey, what's up with you?"

"Nothing." Sarah brought her eyes to Kelly. "I just... I'm just worried about my dad."

"Yeah, how is he doing?" Kelly asked.

Sarah shrugged. "He's getting worse. He's tired all the time, sometimes he's just _so_ weak that he can't even get out of bed. I'm really scared he's going to die."

"God, I'm sorry, Sarah," Kelly replied. "I know it's not the same, but when my parents divorced, I stopped seeing my dad. It was like he died. I got card on my birthday and that was it."

"But, he's still alive," Sarah said. "He can still do things with you. He can walk you down the aisle when you get married."

Kelly shook her head. "I don't want him to." She paused, frowning again. "I guess it's pretty different from your situation. You actually like your dad."

"Yeah." Sarah looked away. "I do."

* * *

"Hey." Cuddy lingered in the doorway to the bedroom. "You getting up?"

House turned slightly from his spot in bed. "No."

"What's wrong?" Cuddy made her way over to the bed.

"Headache, sore thigh, nausea, generally feeling like shit," House rattled off his feelings and held back a groan.

Cuddy walked around to the other side of the bed and gave him a small nudge. "Move over some."

House looked to Cuddy and scooted over. He turned onto his side, away from her. Cuddy climbed in next to him and began to rub his back.

"How does that feel?" Cuddy asked.

"Like I'm going to throw up," House answered.

Cuddy stopped rubbing his back and leaned toward him. "Want me to help you to the bathroom?"

"No."

House threw off his covers and Cuddy watched him as he forced himself to sit up. He slid toward the edge of the bed and forced himself to his feet. He placed his palms on the night table, hunched over. Cuddy climbed from the bed and hurried around it, bringing his cane with her.

"I'm okay," House told her, trying to assure her as well as himself.

House took the cane from Cuddy and began to head for the bathroom, practically dragging his right leg with him.

"Greg..." Cuddy took a step closer to him.

House waved her off. "I can do it myself."

He managed to make it painfully to the bathroom, Cuddy's eyes on him the whole time. House didn't bother to shut the door and he didn't turn on the light either. He limped to the toilet and set his cane on the back of it. He placed a hand on the wall in front of him to hold himself up.

Cuddy diverted her eyes to the floor when she heard him start to dry heave. She bit her bottom lip, wishing she could instantly take away his pain. She slowly made her way over to the bathroom doorway. House was standing over the toilet, breathing heavily.

"I want to die," he said, keeping his gaze on the toilet bowl.

"Greg," Cuddy spoke softly with a shake of her head.

"I don't want to live like this." House began to dry heave again.

Cuddy went to him and put a gentle hand on his back. After a few moments of taking in deep breaths, House straightened slightly and reached out for her with his free hand. She took his hand within hers.

House removed his other hand from the wall and turned toward her. He pulled his hand out of hers and stepped closer to her. Cuddy wrapped her hands around his waist as his hands went to her back. He rested his chin on her shoulder.

"It's going to be all right," she told him. "We'll get through it."

House lifted his chin slightly. "I know you'll get through it. It's her I worry about."

"I know." Cuddy nodded. "But, you won't die. You can't. You had all those times when you almost died, but you didn't. You can't leave now. I know it's selfish to say that when you're in this much pain, but you can't leave."

"Unfortunately, I don't have a choice." House pulled back and locked eyes with her. "You will be okay. Okay?"

Cuddy nodded as she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks. House softened.

"Don't cry." He drew her back into a hug and placed his hand over her hair. "Don't..."

Cuddy nodded again and drew back. She gave him a tight smile and made her way out of the bathroom because she was afraid if she stayed in there any longer with him, she would completely break down.

* * *

"I'm home!" Sarah announced and shut the front door behind herself.

"In the living room," Cuddy replied and turned the volume on the television down.

"Hey," Sarah greeted as she stepped into the living room.

"How was Kelly's?" Cuddy asked her.

"Good," Sarah answered. "Where's Dad?"

"Resting in bed," Cuddy replied and held back a tired sigh.

"Mom." Sarah pressed her lips together. "How bad is he?"

"He's-" Cuddy tried to phrase her words correctly. "He's not doing as well as before, but we still have to be hopeful, right?"

"Yeah," Sarah agreed, but her voice hinted she felt otherwise.

Cuddy brightened her tone. "Want to watch a movie?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, I've got a lot of homework I still have to do. And my project's due Monday."

"All right," Cuddy said. "I'll be making dinner in a little while."

Sarah pressed her lips together and nodded in response before heading for her bedroom.

* * *

Sarah slipped into the seat next to her mother at the dining room table. She picked up the fork resting next to the plate of food on the table in front of her.

"Dad eating?" Sarah directed the question to her mother as she noticed there wasn't a plate set up for him.

Cuddy set down her glass of water. "No."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Is he going to die soon?"

"No," Cuddy answered, a frown forming.

"Are you sure?" Sarah stared at her mother. "Because he's stopped eating. He hasn't been out of bed for days."

"I know." Cuddy tried to keep the harshness out of her tone.

"Is he going to have to go to the hospital?" Sarah took a sip from her glass of water.

Cuddy gave a slight nod. "Maybe."

Sarah returned her glass to the table. "Can I stay there with him if he's at the hospital?"

"No," Cuddy replied. "_If_ he goes to the hospital, he could be there for weeks. That's not a place for you to stay."

"I could sit with Dad and do my homework there, and then sleep in your office," Sarah said. "We can live at the hospital."

"Out of my office?" Cuddy asked her.

"Yeah," Sarah replied.

"Let's take things one step at a time, honey," Cuddy told her. "Your father's not even in the hospital yet."

"Yet," Sarah grumbled and poked at her mashed potatoes.

* * *

Sarah headed for the front door as she heard a knock for the second time. She pulled open the door and squinted against the afternoon sun. She smiled as her eyes set themselves on Wilson.

"Hi, Uncle James," Sarah greeted him.

"Hi, Sarah," Wilson returned. "I came to see your dad."

"He's in his bedroom." Sarah began to lead Wilson down the hallway.

"Where's your mom?" Wilson asked her.

"Um..." Sarah frowned. "She's around here somewhere. I'm not sure. I was in my room for the last few hours."

Sarah stopped at the slightly open door and knocked. She pushed open the door to her parents' bedroom and peeked her head inside.

"Dad?" Sarah looked to the bed. "Uncle James is here to see you." Sarah took a step back into the hall and smiled again at Wilson. "I'll go find Mom."

Wilson entered into the bedroom as Sarah went to find Cuddy. He stood near the doorway, his eyes on the bed. House was on his usual side, the covers pulled over him. His eyes were on Wilson.

"Hey," Wilson said. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I'm feeling?" House replied.

Wilson took a few slow steps toward the bed. "I wish I could help you, but... there's nothing that I can really do." He stopped and planted his hands on his hips. "Would you mind if I sit for awhile?"

"I'm not on my deathbed," House retorted.

"I know that."

Wilson walked over to the chair near the corner of the room and brought it to House's side of the bed. He seated himself down and looked to his friend. The door to the bedroom opened further and Cuddy stepped into the room.

"James." She brought her eyes to Wilson. "Hi. Sarah said you were here."

"I just stopped by to say hello to House," Wilson told her.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Cuddy offered.

Wilson shook his head. "No, I'm good. Thanks, Lisa."

She smiled at him. "I'll leave you two alone, then."

Cuddy looked to House quick before she headed out. Once she was gone, Wilson leaned back in the chair and directed his attention back on House. House glared at him.

"You don't have to be here," he said.

"I wanted to see you," Wilson replied.

"Because I'm going to die soon." House gave a slight nod. "Lisa told you."

"She didn't," Wilson insisted. "I've called your cell, but you haven't been answering. I missed talking to you."

"Yeah, right." House rolled his eyes before he shut them. "Listen, I don't need you here. I don't want to talk about pointless shit that doesn't actually matter. It's a waste of time."

"Okay."

Wilson grew quiet and let his eyes scan the room, examining the dresser with pictures of Sarah on it and the stack of medical books sitting beneath the windowsill. After several minutes had passed, House opened his eyes and directed them to Wilson.

"You just gonna sit there?" House asked, a look of disgust on his face.

"Yes," Wilson answered and gave a short nod.

House let out an exaggerated sigh and shut his eyes again. Wilson felt a smile creep over his lips, knowing that House really did appreciate him stopping by to visit.


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm sorry for the lack of update. I had been on vacation and just got back today. Thanks for the fantastic comments. You guys are great.**

* * *

"Sarah."

She turned in the hallway after walking out of the band room, knowing the voice, but surprised to hear it. Sarah's eyes landed on her aunt.

"Aunt Dory?" Sarah's facial expression changed from confusion to worry. "What happened?"

"Come on." Dory gave her a nod. "Your mom's with your dad at the hospital. They found him a liver. He's in surgery now."

"He's already in surgery?" Sarah hurried over to her aunt and walked alongside of her. "Why didn't anyone get me sooner?"

"Your mom thought it would be best if you went to band practice," Dory told her. "It'll be a long wait."

"So, if Dad has a liver, did someone else die?" Sarah asked her.

"Yeah." Dory nodded. "But, your dad has a shot at getting better now because of it."

"Did my mom say anything else?" Sarah said.

"Nope." Dory shook her head. "Just to pick you up and bring you to the hospital."

Sarah fell silent as her aunt walked her towards the front doors of the school. Dory glanced over at Sarah before placing her arm around her shoulders.

"It'll be okay, Sarah," Dory tried to reassure her niece and planted a light kiss on the girl's head.

* * *

Cuddy stood from her seat in the waiting room as she saw her daughter and sister approach.

"Mom." Sarah rushed to her mother and hugged her.

"Hi, sweetheart." Cuddy returned the hug and then looked to her sister. "Thank you, Dor, for picking her up."

"No problem, Lise," Dory replied.

"How's Dad?" Sarah asked as she took a step away from Cuddy.

"He's in surgery," Cuddy told her.

"For how long?" Sarah said.

Cuddy drew in a breath. "It's only been about an hour. He could be in there for a long time. If you want to go home for a little while-"

"No," Sarah cut her off. "I want to stay here with you."

Cuddy gave her daughter a smile. "All right, sweetie."

She brushed her fingers over Sarah's cheek and then looked over at Dory.

"You can go, Dory," Cuddy told her sister. "I'll call and keep you updated."

"Okay," Dory agreed.

Dory drew Cuddy into a quick hug before hugging Sarah. She gave them both a parting smile and headed back through the way she came in. Cuddy turned to her daughter.

"Are you hungry or anything?" Cuddy asked.

"No," Sarah answered.

She noticed the wrinkles her mother only had in deep concern. The last time she had seen them was when Grandfather House had passed away and her father was distant for weeks.

Sarah shifted her weight. "So, what happened?"

Cuddy seated herself back down onto a stiff padded chair. "A woman was in a car accident and her liver was a match for your father. It's a five six match, which is good."

Sarah sat down next to her mother and let her backpack drop at her feet. "How long will the surgery take?"

"It varies," Cuddy said. "It could be four hours, it could be fourteen. Or anywhere in between that."

Sarah's eyebrows shot up. "That long?"

"Yeah," Cuddy answered gently.

Cuddy placed her arm around Sarah. Sarah leaned into her mother and relaxed against her. She let out a breath as she prepared herself for the wait.

* * *

"Hey," Wilson called out to Cuddy and Sarah as he approached them. "How are you doing?"

"James." Cuddy instantly felt comfort at seeing her friend.

She stood to her feet and hugged him tightly. Sarah stood as well and hugged Wilson after he parted from her mother.

"How are you doing, Sarah?" Wilson asked her.

"Okay." Sarah shrugged.

"I brought you some food." Wilson extended the brown paper bag. "Claire made it."

"Thanks." Cuddy gave him a smile and took the bag.

Sarah bit her bottom lip. "Uncle James... wanna come with me?"

"Where?" Cuddy asked, eyebrows drawing together curiously.

"For a walk," Sarah told her and then looked back over at Wilson.

Wilson nodded. "Sure."

"We'll be back," Sarah said to her mother and led Wilson away from Cuddy.

* * *

Sarah stepped into her father's office first. Wilson followed in after her and remained near the doorway, waiting for a cue from Sarah as to what he should do.

"I used to play in here." Sarah ran her fingers across the top of House's desk. "And color in here. Sometimes when I was annoyed with Mom, I would storm up here. She always knew where to find me."

Sarah made her way around the desk and sat in the chair behind it. Wilson walked over to the yellow chair and sat on the edge of it, letting Sarah talk.

"When I got older, he would sit here and I would stand over there, and we would toss his ball back and forth," Sarah continued. "We would discuss everything and sometimes he would tell me about his patients. He would rattle off the symptoms. Mom hated that because she always thought I would get upset. I needed to know what happened to the patients, if they lived or died. They were never really people to me." She paused. "They were symptoms. They were problems and a solution."

"You sound like your father," Wilson said after a long silence.

"I know," Sarah agreed. She diverted her eyes and twisted the chair back and forth a few times. Finally, she lifted her head back up. "If you were in my dad's situation and Jack could be your liver donor, would you let him?"

Wilson thought a moment before shaking his head. "No. I don't think I could."

Sarah nodded slowly and looked away again. "Yeah..."

"He's getting a liver right now, Sarah," Wilson assured.

"I know," Sarah replied, but didn't look up.

"It's okay that you're not his donor," Wilson told her. "He has a good match right now."

"But, I could have been better," Sarah argued, her voice rising.

"You don't know that," Wilson pointed out. "You didn't have all the tests-"

"I _could_ have," Sarah insisted. "I know-" She cut herself off as tears pricked her eyes. "If he doesn't make it, Uncle James..."

"He'll make it," Wilson assured her.

Sarah shook her head and her eyes darted upwards. "Don't lie to me."

"He _can_ make it," Wilson rephrased his previous words.

"Except that he's old and he's crippled and he's sick," Sarah bitterly replied. "He's all these things-"

Sarah cut herself off again and spun the chair around, giving Wilson her back. Wilson stood up and walked toward the desk.

"And he's your father," he added gently.

Sarah was quiet for a long moment. "It just... sucks a lot."

She turned her chair back around, her face devoid of tears. Wilson nodded.

"I know," he said. "Come here."

Sarah stood from the chair and moved around the desk. Wilson drew her into a hug. Sarah returned the hug tightly.

"Thanks," she told him.

Wilson drew back and looked down at her. "You don't have to thank me."

Sarah drew in a breath. "I should go back to Mom."

"Only if you want to," Wilson replied, wanting to make sure she was okay. "We can stay here and talk some more if you'd rather do that."

"No." Sarah shook her head. "I'll go back to Mom."

Wilson nodded and followed Sarah out of House's office.

* * *

A little after one in the morning, Sarah awoke due to the movement next to her. She sat up and looked to the empty chair where Cuddy had been previously sitting. Sarah stood up once she saw her mother talking with Dr. Meyers. She quickly stepped up alongside her mother.

"-he seems to be doing very well, vitals are good," Dr. Meyers continued what he had been saying. "We just moved him into his room, but he'll probably be out for the rest of the night. You can go in and see him."

"Thank you." Cuddy gave Dr. Meyers a tired smile. She looked to her daughter. "Come on, Sarah."

Sarah picked up her backpack from the floor and threw one of the straps over her shoulder. She followed her mother down the hallway and into the Intensive Care Unit room her father was in.

House was on his back in bed, connected to IV's and monitors. His eyes were closed and his face was pale. Cuddy swallowed the lump in her throat as she remained near the doorway.

Sarah stepped around her mother and headed for the couch close to the bed.She set her backpack on the floor and made her way over to the bed. Sarah lightly touched her father's hand.

Cuddy drew in a deep breath and crossed over to the other side of the bed. She pulled the chair up to the bed and took a seat. She focused her attention on House and silently said a prayer.

* * *

Cuddy was sitting forward in her chair as she sat next to the hospital bed. She held onto House's hand and gently ran her thumb over the back of his hand. Sarah was curled up on the couch across the room, sleeping. House opened his eyes and Cuddy perked up

"Hey," she said quietly, her voice tired.

House didn't say anything, but his eyes went to Cuddy. Cuddy placed her free hand on his arm and rubbed up and down.

"How are you feeling?" Cuddy asked.

House nodded slightly in response.

"Do you need anything?" Cuddy prompted. "Water?"

He shook his head.

"They've been checking on you all night," Cuddy told him. "They think your body is accepting the liver and that you shouldn't have a problem. We're not out of the woods yet, but we're getting there."

House nodded again. Cuddy gave his hand a small squeeze.

"I wish you'd say something," Cuddy said.

"Mick?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

A small smile crossed over Cuddy's lips and she pointed to the other side of the room. House directed his eyes over to the couch and then looked back over at Cuddy.

"We were here all night." Cuddy started to rub her thumb over his hand again.

"You okay?" House asked her, his voice still quiet and rough.

"Yeah." Cuddy nodded, feeling tears prick her eyes. "I am now."


	20. Chapter 20

**Well, here we are. The last chapter. Thank you SO MUCH for supporting this fic and each one that came before it. You guys are fabulous, wonderful readers. THANKS SO MUCH.**

* * *

**Two Years Later.**

Cuddy awoke and drew in a deep breath. She looked to her right, the bed empty. She frowned and sat up as she directed her attention to the clock on her night stand. It was a little after nine in the morning. She heard the footsteps first and she felt a small smile cross over her lips.

"Hey," a deep voice said from the doorway.

House entered into the bedroom, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. He held a tray containing pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee. Cuddy watched as he made his way over to her and set the tray down on her lap.

"Couldn't really do this before," he added, indicating his free hands and showing off his C-Leg.

"No, you couldn't," Cuddy agreed. "Does it hurt this morning?"

"Itches like a bitch, but I haven't felt any pain yet," House answered.

Cuddy smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I can distract you from that if you get back into bed."

"Maybe you should eat the breakfast I made you before it gets cold." House bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm going out for a walk."

"Ambitious today," Cuddy commented. "I usually have to poke you with a sharp stick to get you out."

"I'm not that bad," House replied, a frown on his face.

Cuddy signaled for House to come closer with her index finger. House leaned down toward her again and Cuddy placed her lips to his. She drew back and smiled up at him.

"Have a nice walk," she told him.

"I will." He exaggerated a wink and headed out of the bedroom.

* * *

"Hi, Dad," Sarah greeted as she shuffled into the kitchen. She stopped and stared at her father. "What the hell are you doing?"

House looked up from where he was sitting on a chair in front of the open refrigerator. He raised his eyebrows at his daughter.

"Language," he warned.

Sarah frowned at him. "You don't care."

"Language," Cuddy chimed in as she entered into the kitchen.

"But your mom does," House snickered to Sarah.

Sarah gave him a nudge in return and House turned back to the inside of the fridge. Cuddy's eyebrows drew together as she watched House.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Trying to change this light bulb," House answered. "It's burned out and stuck or something."

"Oh," Cuddy replied with a slight nod.

"Can I borrow your car?" Sarah said quickly.

Cuddy turned to her daughter. "Whose car?

"Dad's," Sarah told her.

Cuddy shook her head. "Take mine."

"No." Sarah made a face. "Dad's is better."

"Told ya," House added.

"Shut up," Cuddy directed her words to him.

House looked back at Sarah. "Keys are by the door."

"Thanks." Sarah smiled at him and began to head out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Cuddy asked her.

"Mall," Sarah answered.

Cuddy placed her hands to her hips. "What for?"

"Shoes," Sarah replied simply.

House frowned and worked the light bulb from its socket. "Don't you have enough?"

"No," she told him. "I'll be back by dinner."

"Who are you going with?"

"Kelly!" Sarah called back to her mother as she hurried from the room. "Bye!"

Cuddy made her way over to House and stood next to him, watching as he put the new bulb in the refrigerator's light socket.

"I can't believe she's driving," Cuddy commented, a small frown forming.

"Speed demon," House said as he finished screwing the bulb in.

Cuddy glared down at him. "Don't say that."

"She is," House insisted and sat back since he finished his project.

"She is not," Cuddy argued.

House carefully stood to his feet and pushed the chair back. "You ever been in the car with her?"

"She won't let me." Cuddy folded her arms over her chest. "I'm not allowed on your little trips."

"I know." House pressed his lips together to keep from smirking.

Cuddy glared again. "Don't be so smug."

"I really can't help it that she likes me better." House shrugged and closed the refrigerator door.

"Shut up," Cuddy shot back, but without much anger.

House took a step and drew in a sharp breath. He stopped and clutched at the top of his C-Leg where his thigh used to be. Cuddy eyed him up.

"You okay?" she asked.

Shaking his head, House squeezed his eyes shut. Cuddy stepped closer to him and ran her hand up and down over his back.

"Fuck," House hissed out a curse. "I hate when this happens. It's a dull pain and then it suddenly hurts like before without warning."

"You should take something," Cuddy told him.

"Yeah..." House pulled away from her and began to slowly walk away.

Cuddy's eyes followed him. "Greg."

House turned halfway in her direction. Cuddy walked over to him and slipped her arms around his waist. She hugged him tightly and rested her head on his chest. House placed an arm around her backside and put his other hand on her hair.

"This is better than before," she assured him.

"I just wish my thigh would have taken its pain with it," House said.

"I know," Cuddy replied and tightened her grip on him.

* * *

When the doorbell rang, House was already off the couch and heading toward the front door.

"I'll get it!" he called out.

"Dad!" Sarah shouted from her bedroom. "Don't you dare! Mom! Get the door!"

Cuddy hurried from the dining room and down the hall, cutting in front of House just as he was opening the door. House attempted to shove her out of the way, but she stood her ground. She smiled at the teen boy standing on her porch.

"Hi, Dave," Cuddy greeted him. "Come in. Sarah's almost ready."

Cuddy took a step back, forcing House to step back as well. Dave entered into the house and Cuddy closed the door behind him. Dave shoved his hands into his pockets and gave Cuddy a smile.

"How are you, Dr. Cuddy?" he asked.

"Fine." Cuddy returned his smile. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Um." Dave was distracted by the looming House. "I'm... good."

Cuddy caught on to Dave's distraction and looked back at House. "Greg, can you check the water I'm boiling on the stove?"

"No," House shot back and turned to Dave. "Where are you going tonight?"

"We're going to see a movie," Dave answered.

"Which one?" House prompted.

"_Back to Home_," Dave told him.

"Rated R?" House was quite aware that Cuddy was glaring at him, but he ignored her and continued on with his questions.

"No." Dave shook his head. "PG thirteen."

"What time will you be bringing my daughter back?" House's eyebrows drew together in concern.

"Eleven?" Dave guessed, but quickly changed his answer once House frowned. "Ten."

"Eleven is fine," Cuddy said to Dave.

"Your water is probably boiling over." House nudged Cuddy.

"Go turn it down," Cuddy hissed at him.

House shook his head slightly. "No."

"Greg." Cuddy warned, but House wasn't budging. She sighed and gave Dave an apologetic look. "I'll be back."

Dave watched as Cuddy headed off toward the dining room. He directed his eyes to the floor next and cleared his throat. House smirked slightly.

"So, Dave." House waited until Dave looked up at him. "I've been meaning to ask you how you feel about birth control."

"Um, what?" Dave merely stared at House.

"Checking out my leg?" House asked sternly, messing with him.

"No." Dave quickly shook his head.

"Wanna know how it happened?" House asked.

"No, sir," Dave answered.

"Lost it in a bar fight," House told him.

"A bar fight?" Dave repeated.

"Yeah," House nodded. "You should have seen the other guy."

"Dad." Sarah hurried down the hallway, dressed to go out. "What are you doing?"

House shrugged. "Nothing."

"Don't listen to anything he says," Sarah said to Dave and then turned to her father. "Where's Mom?"

"Kitchen," House replied.

"We're going, Mom!" Sarah called out in the direction of the kitchen.

"Okay!" Cuddy called back. "Have fun!"

Sarah turned back to House. "Bye, Dad." Sarah frowned as House ignored her, his eyes on Dave, who was squirming beneath the stare. Sarah stepped further into her father's line of vision. "Dad. Bye."

"Bye," House returned brightly.

Sarah quickly ushered Dave out of the house, making sure to close the door behind them. House smirked and began back toward the living room. Cuddy entered from the dining room, glaring at House again.

"It boiled over," she told him.

"Whoops." House gave a small shrug.

"What did you say to him?" Cuddy asked.

"Nothing." House stepped into the living room.

"Yeah, right." Cuddy followed after him. "Don't sit. Come on. We'll have tea and then go for a walk."

"You'll have tea." House sat down on the couch. "I don't want that shit."

"It's good for you," Cuddy reminded him.

"Don't care," he replied.

"Fine." Cuddy planted her hands on her hips. "I'll have tea by myself."

"Good." House turned on the television with the remote control.

Cuddy stared at him a moment before crossing toward him and standing in the way of his view of the television. House raised his eyes to Cuddy.

"She's going to go on dates," Cuddy said.

House's eyebrows drew together. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're crabby," Cuddy pointed out.

"I'm in pain," House offered, irritated, as an excuse.

"She'll be home by eleven, all in one piece," Cuddy assured him.

"I know." House leaned over on the couch, trying to see around Cuddy. "Now, move. Your fat ass is in the way."

"Deflect all you want, but my ass isn't fat." Cuddy stepped aside and gently patted his head. "Let me drink my tea, then we'll go for a walk."

Cuddy turned and left the room. House glanced up at her once before looking back to the television. He shook his head slightly, annoyed and somewhat pleased that she knew him so well.

* * *

"Your dad's intense," Dave said to Sarah as he drove them to the movie theatre.

"Yeah, he can be like that," Sarah agreed. "Don't let it bother you. He does that to any boy I'm around that's relatively my age."

Dave glanced over at Sarah. "I think he cares a little too much."

Sarah shook her head and looked out the window. "Not my dad. Usually he doesn't give a fuck about anything."

"Anything, but you." Dave commented nonchalantly and partly distracted as he turned a corner.

Sarah looked back over at Dave, a small smile crossing over her lips, his comment meaning more to her than he knew.

* * *

Just shy of eleven at night, Sarah entered into her home. She closed and locked the door behind her. As she made her way down the hallway, House entered from the living room.

"Hey," he greeted her quietly.

"Hi," Sarah returned.

"How was the movie?" House whispered.

"Good," Sarah answered. "Why are you whispering?"

"Your mom's asleep on the couch," House replied.

"Oh." Sarah lowered her volume. "Were you waiting up?"

"Waiting for _Saturday Night Live_," he told her. "Wanna watch it with me?"

"Sure." Sarah nodded. "I'm gonna change first."

"Okay." House nodded as well.

Sarah began for her room, but she stopped. She faced House as he was heading back into the living room.

"Dad," Sarah said.

House turned. "Yeah?"

Sarah made her way back over to him and hugged him tightly. House returned the hug to her.

"I love you for being you, even when you're irritating the shit out of me," Sarah told her.

"Language," Cuddy spoke up tiredly from the couch in the living room.

Sarah and House exchanged smirks. Sarah stepped into the doorway of the living room and looked to the couch.

"Sorry, Mom," Sarah apologized to her mother, even though a smirk was still on her face.

"How was your date?" Cuddy asked her.

"Good," Sarah answered.

"That's good," Cuddy replied.

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. "I'm going to change and watch SNL with you and Dad."

"Okay." Cuddy nodded.

Sarah headed back into the hallway and towards her room. House watched her.

"Hey," he spoke up.

Sarah turned and looked at him.

"Love you, too, Mick," he said.

She smiled at him and he returned the smile before they headed in their separate directions.


End file.
